


Show Me Life Like I've Never Seen

by Rearviewdreamer



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Acceptance, Adoption, Angst, Architect Louis, Blind Harry, Bottom Louis, Disability, Disabled Character, Established Relationship, Falling In Love, Fluff, M/M, Marriage Proposal, Niall is my fav, Painter Harry, Top Harry, Wedding, boys flirting, happy ending of course, louis is the sun, tagging as I write, things I write for my own selfish entertainment
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-18
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-08-31 15:31:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 42,953
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8583859
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rearviewdreamer/pseuds/Rearviewdreamer
Summary: Louis never expected to leave the small art studio three blocks down from his job with anything besides the painting he caught a glimpse of and simply couldn't forget.





	1. Chapter 1

A quick glance down at his phone tells Louis two things; one, that Niall is about to lose his shit based on the five consecutive texts he’s just sent asking where the hell Louis is, and two; he is never going to make it back to the office in time for their meeting because traffic was so backed up that he decided to ditch the cab he was in to walk the remainder of the three blocks left. He forgot the blueprints for their latest project at his flat this morning and had to practically defy the laws of time in order to go collect them. Even so, he’s still probably going to be late.

 

He doesn’t even try to respond to his friend’s demands to know his whereabouts and his estimated time of arrival. Fumbling around with his phone as he zig-zags through the hordes of people in his way is the absolute last thing that he needs. He catalogues all the random things he sees as he hurries down the street, just trying not to trip and bust his arse all over the pavement. There’s an old woman just ahead of him walking much too slowly, two small, yapping dogs being led by a much younger woman that he passes who’s practically yelling into her phone. There’s a frazzled-looking young man in a hoodie struggling to juggle more shit in his arms than Louis is at the moment, and right in the middle of all that chaos, a flash of brilliant green peeking out from the corner of a large canvas where the cover has slipped off the top.

 

Stopping isn’t ideal for the hurry that he’s in, but Louis takes a brief intermission from the bustle of lunchtime-rush to watch the rich emerald hue disappear into a small building as movers carry that canvas along with dozens of others inside.

 

He only gets a glimpse of whatever the beautiful image is before a man in an expensive suit bumps into him, nearly trampling all over him with his equally expensive shoes because he’s in the way. The small nudge is enough to remind Louis that although his brain just took a mini vacation, the rest of his body is still very much here and subsequently very very late for a meeting he was supposed to have been at five minutes ago.

 

*

 

“Hey, Ni. You go to that art studio down the street sometimes, right? The small grey building with all the wide windows?”

 

Niall looks over at him from his desk with narrowed eyes, probably still annoyed that he had to sit through ten minutes of awkwardness with their client and their boss before Louis finally arrived. Whoops.

 

It’s not like Niall can stay mad at him for long though. His expression quickly melts into that familiar easiness that he always seems to exude, even when he’s at his most stressed.

 

“Yeah, I do,” he answers. “I’ve got a couple of mates whose work gets displayed there. Why?”

 

The fact that Louis has known Niall for over a year and is only just now hearing of these artistic mates of his is news to him.

 

“So… how come I’ve never met any of them?” he asks conversationally as he revises the blueprints that he sped home for, but honestly could’ve just left sitting on his desk since their client up and decided to change almost everything about them.

 

“Because I kind of got the impression that you’re not into that sort of thing since every time I invite you to come you’re ‘ _busy_ ’,” Niall says with a sarcastic rise of his eyebrow. Evidently, he’s caught on to the fact that Louis’ definition of ‘busy’ usually features him waist deep in an ocean of junk food and Netflix. Niall glances at him again, watching the lead from Louis’ pencil leave long dark marks across the paper. “Again, why do you ask?”

 

Louis drops the pencil a few seconds later, squeezing his eyes shut and then opening them again to give them a rest from staring at his paper for so long. He feels like he’s been working on these blueprints for ages.

 

“No reason. I had to walk by there on the way back. They were moving all these paintings inside and I was curious.” Louis has probably walked by that building a thousand times just like every other building on that street, though he’s never really paid it much attention. It’s so overshadowed where it’s wedged between a large office building similar to theirs and a bank that’s usually so busy that you might miss the studio completely if you blink.

 

“It’s not much to be curious about,” Niall assures him. “It’s a relatively new building. It’s like, five or six years old, but like you said, it’s small. Nothing special. Nothing at all like the maze you’re over there drawing up.” Louis grins, picking up his pencil to resume his drawing. It sure feels like a fucking maze. Their client had said he wanted a simple design, but he seems dead set on building a modern-day castle right in the middle of the fucking city. “There’s actually something going on there tonight,” Niall mentions. “It’s a showcase for local artists. I was going to drop in to support a friend and say hi. I could bring you along if you want to check out the interior.”

 

The structure of a building is usually Louis’ main point of interest. He likes seeing the end result of months and months of other people’s planning and hard work. He enjoys cataloging all the choices the architect made. The good and even sometimes the bad, because then Louis knows to never make the same mistakes in his own work. He doesn’t actually have any interest in this art studio. At least not in how it was constructed anyway. What Louis wants to see is the rest of the painting that caught his eye since unfortunately he only got the very tip of the iceberg this afternoon. The moment only lasted a few seconds at most, but he hasn’t stopped seeing green ever since.

 

“What?” Niall smirks when Louis doesn’t immediately answer him. “Too busy to come with?”

 

“Actually, this time, no, I’m not. I’d love to tag along.”

 

Niall seems just as surprised by Louis accepting his invitation as Louis feels doing it.

 

“Alright, then. I’ll swing by and pick you up all proper. Be ready at eight. It’s considered rude to keep your hot date waiting.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Is it also considered rude to punch you in the balls?”

 

“Not if I get to punch you back twice as hard for being a class-A dick.” The room falls silent as they grin to themselves. They were so close to being nice, mature, civil people.

 

“So eight, then?” Niall smirks.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I’ll be ready.”

 

*

 

“Wow. You look _nice_.”

 

Louis shuts Niall’s car door behind him with a flat face. “Shut up.”

 

“No, seriously,” Niall grins. “I love what you did with your hair under that beanie. Lots of lazy people are going with that just rolled out of bed look these days. And that _t-shirt_? God, I’ve never seen a band logo look so fucking _right_ across someone’s chest. If I’d have known we were going all out I would’ve dressed up a bit more.”

 

Louis glares at his friend until he laughs, all self-satisfied like he finds himself simply hilarious. Louis hates that he always wants to laugh with him.

 

“Are you quite finished?”

 

“Yeah, I’m done fucking with you. You look good, Lou. Honestly. I like your hat,” he says like some sort of half-arsed apology, and it is for them. Louis briefly wonders what it must be like to have a normal friendship where people compliment each other freely and without sarcasm. Surely, he’ll never find out.

 

Louis rolls his eyes, taking in the crisp outfit Niall chose for the occasion.

 

“Thanks. You look nice too. I like your…khakis.”

 

“Well, only the best for you, my love. Everyone knows the first date sets the precedent,” he says with a stupid wiggle of his eyebrows. Once again, they were so close.

 

“Keep that up and I will have no choice but to knee you in the groin.”

 

“Careful, there,” Niall smirks as he turns the ignition making his car roar to life beneath them. “I just might like it.”

*

 

Louis sighs when they arrive because literally everyone in the room is more dressed up than him and Niall won’t stop laughing like the idiot that he is.

 

“It’s not like you actually care about fitting in with everybody else. You’re just here for the interior anyways.”

 

Louis stops gawking around the room in search of his painting, his brow furrowing slightly until he remembers that Niall thinks he’s checking out the studio for an entirely different reason.

 

“I’m gonna go find my mates. They should be here by now,” Niall announces after a few seconds of watching Louis scan the walls. “Do you want to come with or are you going to be alright for a bit?”

 

“Well, Ni, it’ll be tough. But somehow I think I’ll survive without you.” Louis yelps and ducks to avoid the slap Niall aims at his arm. His friend disappears into the crowd after he’s done attacking him, and then suddenly he’s all alone. Well, not totally alone. There are dozens of other people moving about the main room, the light fixtures above them casting pockets of soft light onto the rows of paintings lining the walls. Everyone seems to be following a similar path around the studio to view them, starting at one artist’s collection of works near the front and then moving towards the rooms in the back of the building to see the others.

 

It only takes a few seconds of looking around for Louis to conclude that his painting isn’t up here. It must be in another room, so Louis forgoes the intended flow of traffic in search of it. 

 

He passes all kinds of paintings on the way. Pieces that are absolutely incredible, however none of them demand his attention like the large green one he finds in one room hanging on a wall all by itself.

 

Earlier, Louis had only seen a corner of the painting. He couldn’t tell much about it beyond it’s main color but now that Louis has the entire image, he’s delighted to find that it’s a painting of a forest.

 

A single dim spotlight from above shines right onto its earthy canvas. Tall evergreens shoot up from the tangled earth making Louis feel as though he’s standing right in the middle of it all. Branches and vines snake and twist up the thick trunks and stand out amongst the richest hues of green that he’s ever seen. The image of the forest is so life-like that Louis can almost smell the bark from the trees and feel the dark clay beneath his feet, but then like a dream fading into consciousness around the edges, all the sharp imagery of the scene mysteriously disappears into nothing. The intricate details of the forest are only visible in the very center of the painting. The outer rim of it barely exists at all, all hazy and blurred, forcing Louis to almost squint to be able to make out any discernable shapes and yet it’s still breathtaking. It’s haunting in a way that makes it hard for Louis to look anywhere else. He’s never seen anything like it before.

 

Groups of people enter the room and stop to admire the painting in a steady rotation, but whenever they move on Louis stays frozen in front of it. He doesn’t want to go anywhere else or view the other pieces being featured here tonight when he feels like he could stand here forever looking up at this one.

 

He has no idea how long he’s been rooted there like the old trees painted before him, but he knows it’s been a while when he hears Niall’s signature laugh approaching from somewhere on his right.

 

“Where the hell have you been?” he says like he’s been looking for him for years or something. Louis blinks away from the painting like waking up from some kind of dream causing Niall to eye him with amusement like he does whenever Louis’ had one too many drinks. “Where’d you manage to get booze from in a place like this? I want some,” he says petulantly.

 

“I’m not drunk,” Louis mumbles, his eyes drifting back to the painting even as Niall stares right at him.

 

“Yeah, right,” he mutters. “So, did you get a good look around like you wanted? I told you before that this place is pretty standard. High ceilings, lots of beams to hold the light fixtures and make it look more industrial. It’s just like every other art studio in the city. It’s nothing special.”

 

Louis begs to differ as he turns back to the blurry forest in front of them because he knows no other studio in the world has a painting like this one.

 

“I want this painting,” Louis says, ignoring everything Niall just said about the building they’re standing in. He reaches out to touch it but stops just before his fingers brush the canvas. There are signs everywhere telling people not to touch the artwork. Louis’ been struggling to follow the rules all night. “It’s amazing, isn’t it? It’s like- I don’t even know. It’s weird. I kind of never want to stop looking at it. I usually don’t give a shit about these kinds of things, but for some reason I care about this.”

 

Louis has always thought the act of buying expensive art was pretentious as fuck and pretty pointless. You can buy cheap replicas for fractions of the price of the original, but he gets what the big fuss is when he’s staring at this piece. Louis wants to look at it every day for the rest of his life. He’d take it as a personal offense if it were hanging up in someone else’s home instead of his where it should be. He’s so in love with it that he’s sure he wouldn’t even mind parting with the hundreds or god forbid, _thousands_ it’s probably worth.

 

Niall blinks at him and snorts like he’s more drunk than he originally suspected. Louis hasn’t had a drop of alcohol. He’s just really enthusiastic about this. He can understand Niall’s suspicion since it doesn’t happen too often.

 

The sound of more people entering the room grabs their attention. Louis merely glances over at them, but Niall turns to smile and wave at a few of them, clearly people he knows quite well from how loudly they yell across the room for him to come join them.

 

“So, you’re saying you like this painting?” Niall checks, quickly turning back to meet Louis’ eyes. Louis scoffs and fights the urge to flick him in the head with his index finger.

 

“Have you not been listening to anything I just said? I’m in _love_ with this painting. It like, completes me or something.” If this building were on fire Louis would have a hard time choosing between Niall and this painting. He’d probably choose the painting. It’s way nicer and doesn’t talk as much.

 

“Good,” Niall smiles easily. “That’s really good. Fantastic even, because lucky for you, I know the artist! I’m going to introduce you. Come on.” Niall grabs a hold of Louis’ arms without warning and starts pulling him in the direction of his friends even though Louis is struggling to get away.

 

He’s thought of nothing but this painting all day long and at no time did he ever stop to think about the person responsible for creating it. Louis has even been referring to it in his mind as _his_ painting like he mixed the colors and brushed them onto the canvas himself. He can’t just walk up and _meet_ the artist. He’s wearing a band-tee for fuck’s sake.

 

“Niall _,_ _no_. I’m not ready. Please, I don’t want to,” he begs under his breath, but his friend ignores him. He manages a quick, “ _I hate you_ ,” that’s barely even audible with Niall yanking him along until he’s being pushed in front of a tall man with the prettiest face that Louis’ ever had the pleasure of being eye level to.

 

“Everybody this is my mate Louis that I’ve been telling you about. Louis this is Liam, Zayn, and Josh,” he points. “And this sickeningly gorgeous bastard you’re standing in front of is Harry! The amazingly talented man we’re all here to celebrate tonight.”

 

Louis gives a nervous sort of smile when everyone says hello to him. He mutters a quick, ‘ _nice to meet you all’_ and tries his best to slink away but Niall steadily increases the grip on his arm to keep him there, forcing him to stand directly in front of Harry’s perfect lips and his smooth, bare chest under his open shirt. Niall mentioned meeting the artist and Louis immediately pictured an old scraggly Picasso-type with weathered hands who looks a decade or two overdue for a shave, but not this.

 

“So, Harry,” Niall continues. “I found my mate Louis over by your stuff practically jerking off to how amazing it is. He loves it so much I think he’s interested in buying!” he relays with glee.  The polite smile on Louis’ face slides right of it as he listens to Niall throw him under the fucking bus. Louis adores his friend. His sense of humor is fantastic; one to rival his own, but sometimes Niall takes it way too far. Right now in front of this beautiful man with his chocolate hair all swept back like a fucking prince is one of those very instances.  

 

“ _No_. Niall, he- he’s lying. I would never do something like that. I _didn’t_ -”

 

Louis stumbles over his words and achieves absolutely nothing in the way of explaining himself, though he feels a lot less anxious about people thinking he’s a public masturbator when the corner of Harry’s lips turns up and a delighted little laugh fills the space between them.

 

“As I was saying,” Niall continues. “He’s super into it. He’ll probably pay whatever it is you’re asking. Maybe even _double_ since he’s properly obsessed.”

 

Louis feels all the blood in his face rush to his cheeks when Harry laughs again and kindly stretches out a hand towards him.

 

“Well, I’m incredibly honored, Louis. It’s very nice to meet you,” he says in a deep voice that’s a bit surprising considering how young Harry looks as he smiles down at him.

 

“It’s nice to meet you too.” Louis firmly grasps his hand in a false display of confidence even though he’s more than a little flustered. He needs to get himself together. Harry’s a painter not a superstar.

 

He doesn’t want to make this introduction even more awkward than it already is so Louis forces himself to look up and meet Harry’s eyes. Coincidentally, they’re just as brilliantly green and alive as the painting that’s hanging on the wall a few feet away because of course they are, and just like that painting, Harry’s eyes are striking and clear, but seem just a bit out of focus. They wander a bit, like staying locked on one thing is difficult for him, but his smile is still as warm and bright as ever.

 

“Which painting are you interested in, Louis?”

 

Louis feels his face flush even more because he assumes all the other beautiful paintings in this room were also created by Harry, but to be honest he hasn’t paid them much attention. “I really like the one of the woods. It’s amazing. I can’t believe someone actually painted that even though I guess technically you did.”

 

It’s faint, but there’s a bit of a flush to Harry’s cheeks now as well. He clears his throat with a flattered duck of his head before muttering a quiet thank you. Louis pretends like his stomach isn’t fluttering like mad when he notices that man has dimples. Fucking _dimples_.

 

Louis nearly forgets that there are other people standing there with them and watching their interactions. The other boys all smirk at them like a group of twelve year olds who’ve just realized two people have a crush on one another. He’s saved when Niall claps his hands together to gain the group’s attention.

 

“Well, boys, I think we should get out of here and let artist and buyer flirt for a while. I mean, _chat_ for a while,” he corrects, though the smirk says it wasn’t an accident at all. “We’ll come find you two in a bit.”

 

He gives Louis a thumbs up before walking away and Louis prays to God that the lights are dim enough in here that no one noticed.

 

His ears burn being left standing there with Harry all by himself. The only sensible thing he can think to do is apologize for his friend ( _ex_ -friend after the shit he just pulled) for being an idiot, but Louis’ profuse apology and Harry’s, ‘ _I’m so sorry about that_ ,’ fall right on top of each other as they rush to make amends.

 

They both grin at the way their words overlap.

 

“So… I think it’s safe to say Niall’s an arse,” is all Louis can come up with causing Harry to splutter out a laugh that makes his eyes crinkle so much that they’re nearly closed. When he opens them, they have a hard time settling on Louis’ face again, almost like he can’t see him very well. “Are you alright?” Louis frowns, wondering if this is just normal for him since he doesn’t seem concerned. Though, maybe Niall’s right and there _is_ booze in here somewhere.

 

“Yeah, I’m okay,” Harry nods, small grin still pulling at his lips. “I have a hard time seeing at night. Unfortunately, these dumb studio lights aren’t really helping.”

 

Louis nods his understanding. He could tell earlier that something wasn’t quite right with his focus. Harry having poor night vision definitely explains it.

 

“So,” Harry begins to bring them back to why their sorry excuses for friends lumped them together and then unceremoniously _ditched_ them. “The painting you like has a story if you want to hear it. If you really are interested in buying it that is. My friends can be kind of pushy. Niall could’ve made that whole interested in buying my work thing up as a joke because he’s bored or because you’re good looking.”

 

“No, I want to hear it. And, I am interested in buying. Niall actually got that part right.” It doesn’t happen often, so Louis gives him full credit.

 

“Oh. Good,” Harry smiles. “And the part about you being cute?” Louis’ brain had completely glazed right over Harry’s suggestion about him being good looking because Harry is hands down one of the most attractive people that Louis’ ever met.

 

He’s too stunned to answer him. His mouth slightly hanging open when Harry smirks and walks ahead of him, the sheer sleeve of his shirt sending chills down Louis’ bare arm.

 

“I still can’t believe you really painted this. It hardly even seems real,” Louis admits once he comes to stand at Harry’s side, a _safe_ distance away so that he can keep himself in check. Harry smiles again at his compliment, beaming from ear to ear.

 

“Thank you. I’m glad you like it. I didn’t for a really long time. I used to hate it so much I once thought about ripping it up,” he chuckles.

 

Louis can’t imagine ever wanting to destroy something so beautiful.

 

“Really? Why? You obviously spent a lot of time and energy on this.”

 

Harry shrugs like he doesn’t quite know how to explain it, but then he meets Louis eyes in that off-center way of his. “I hated it because it depicts the inevitable.”

 

Louis smirks and once again examines the way the edges of the forest scene fades out into nothing. It must be some kind of metaphor for man versus nature or something else ominous and extremely hipster like that. He doesn’t at all expect what Harry tells him instead.

 

“I painted this around the time I found out I was going blind.”

 

Louis blinks over at him and meets his green eyes, noticing again how unsteady his gaze is even though he’s standing about a foot away from him. He’s looking at Louis, but not really. His gaze is a bit off somehow, but not enough to immediately make someone think he can’t see. “I had no idea you were blind.” Louis figured something was up with Harry’s sight. He just wasn’t aware that it was so severe.

 

“Well, _going_ blind,” he grins as he corrects him. “I’m not quite there yet. I have RP so it’s a relatively slow process. I thought Niall would’ve told you that.” Niall has never said a word about Harry, his amazingly talented mate who just so happens to be even more extraordinary than previously thought.

 

Louis shakes his head and then mentally slaps himself because Harry probably can’t see that.

 

“No. Niall’s never said anything about it. Just that you’re insanely talented. What’s RP?”

 

“Retinitis Pigmentosa. It’s a condition that deteriorates the retina.”

 

“Is that the story behind all this?” he gestures at the painting.

 

“Pretty much. I got diagnosed when I was fifteen when my sight started going all wonky. My parents and the school figured it was time I get glasses since I’d always had a bit of trouble reading and seeing the board. I finally went to see the eye doctor and figured I’d leave with a cool pair of thick-rimmed glasses but then the doctor told me and my parents that glasses wouldn’t be able to help me.”

 

Louis can’t imagine what that must’ve felt like. People rely on doctors to fix things. To give them answers, and that day, Harry and his family got none. “How did you learn you were going blind?”

 

“I was referred to a specialist who explained that although I could still see and things were just sort of blurry, that eventually I’d develop other symptoms like color blindness and tunnel vision. It’d be gradual, but eventually it would get so bad that I wouldn’t be able to see much of anything. He said I’d probably lose my sight entirely around my thirties or forties. I was only fifteen at the time, so thirty seemed like a lifetime away,” he grins. “I’m twenty-four now so obviously I think of it a bit differently.

 

Louis just turned twenty-six a few months ago and sometimes thirty feels like it’s right around the corner. He dreads it because he hates the idea of getting older. He has no idea how he’d feel if thirty also meant losing his sight.

 

“I kind of just brushed the diagnosis to the side. For the next year, my sight got progressively worse, but I could still manage. The RP wasn’t really affecting me in my day-to-day life yet so I wasn’t worried. I was doing just fine in school and still painting every day until one morning I woke up and things were just…different. My sight has always been shit in the mornings. Blurry kind of. It takes my eyes a lot longer to adjust to being awake than most people, but that morning I could see almost nothing. It was like I was looking through a pinhole or trying to read a book through a straw. My specialist had told me that tunnel vision would probably affect me at some point in the future. I just didn’t think it would be so soon.”

 

Louis looks up at the painting and how the middle is crystal clear and the surrounding edges are like smoke; there, but not really. He doesn’t know what he’d do if that’s all his sight was reduced to, especially at the age of sixteen.

 

“I’m so sorry, Harry. That sounds really scary.” It sounds absolutely horrifying.

 

“Yeah, it was. RP sort of eats away at the retina, destroying the healthy outer layer until there’s nothing left to glean. It scared the shit out of me obviously. Up until that point things had never gotten that bad. I had to stay home from school for almost a month, going back and forth to different specialists, only for them to say there was nothing they could do except hope my sudden decline was a temporary one. After that it just became a waiting game. I was home by myself a lot once my parents went back to work. My family’s house is in the country sat right in the middle of all this land and these huge trees. I chanced going out for a walk one day because I was just so tired of being shut up all the time. I thought it would be easy because I had been through those woods a billion times since I was a kid, but I ended up doing more tripping than walking because I had no peripheral vision at all. I could remember every detail of these trees though.”

 

Harry reaches out and runs his fingers over the canvas just like Louis has been yearning to do for the last hour.

 

“I knew how tall and grand they were supposed to be and how they always seemed to stretch on for miles and miles when I was a kid, but that day it was like someone bleached out the edges of it all. All I could make out was what was right there in front of my face and I hated it.”

 

Harry’s telling the story like it doesn’t really bother him anymore, but Louis’ throat feels thick with sadness. Some of his fondest memories are of his childhood home. He can’t imagine how helpless it must feel to have something as precious as that erased right before his eyes.

 

Louis touches one of the tree trunks, finally getting to feel the strokes that Harry’s brush made. “You painted this even though you could hardly see?” he asks even more amazed and impressed by him.

 

“God, no,” Harry smiles as he shakes his head. “Thankfully, I regained most of my blurry sight back after about a month of giving my eyes a rest. When I could finally see well enough to use a brush again I sat down and this forest was the only thing I could think about. People are always so curious about what I’m able to see when I have really bad days or _weeks_ in that case, so, this was the way I chose to explain it.”

                                                            

The painting makes a lot more sense now with the way most of the canvas is just a big, beautiful blur. “Do you still hate it?”

 

“No, not really. I was a teenager back then. Dramatic as hell,” he grins. “I painted this so people could understand and then I hid it away for years so I didn’t have to actually face what was happening to me. Going blind was hard for me to accept, but my vision has cut out on me several times since then and obviously I’ve learned to handle it a lot better. Losing my sight is something that’s going to happen whether I hide this painting or not. Now it serves as a kind of reminder for me to just take things as they come and remember that I’m going to be alright even when they inevitably go. I’ve been going through treatments for RP since I was sixteen to try and help slow the process down, but it’s kind of like putting out a forest fire with a teacup. I’ve bought myself some time by being proactive though. At this point, I’m just grateful for the sight I still have.”

 

“So… you can still see some things?” Louis asks, wondering just how much his eyes are able to take in.

 

“I see lots of things,” he smiles. “It just depends on the type of day I’m having and what I’m looking at. My environment too.”

 

“You mentioned the lighting in here makes it hard for you to see.”

 

“Yeah, it’s so dim I can hardly see a damn thing in here,” he laughs, making Louis feel comfortable enough to smile along because it is unnecessarily moody in here. “However, I’ve been here a million times so I pretty much know my way around. I can see enough to not trip over people or run into shit.”

 

“How about all the paintings? Can you see them too?”

 

“Yeah, I see them better than anything else in here because of the lights shining directly on them. It’s not one-hundred percent of course, but it’s still pretty good.” Louis nods. He figured as much because Harry’s eyes look pretty focused each time he looks at his own painting.

 

“And me? Can you see me or am I just a big blur with a northern accent?” Louis teases. He had been so concerned about his outfit and the fact that he didn’t dress up when the only person here whose opinion he cares about probably can’t even tell what he has on. Harry probably wouldn’t care that he’s a lazy slob anyway, but still.

 

Harry takes a step forward until they’re standing toe to toe. Louis’ grin fades as Harry’s thumb comes up to trace the cut of his jaw and the sharp angles of his cheekbones. His gaze is more focused up this close, like he’s looking right into Louis’ eyes and can see every nervous thought whizzing around in his brain.

 

“Yeah, Louis. I see you,” he smiles easily. “How could I not?”

 

Louis releases a shaky breath when Harry lets his hand fall away from his face. Harry must hear it based on the little grin he’s wearing when he takes a step back out of his space.

 

“So, Louis. Now that I’ve adequately depressed you with my sad sob story are you still interested? Most people say never mind once they hear it and run the other way.”

 

Louis’ mind is still trying to process how very close Harry’s perfect fucking lips just came to touching his. Their faces were a few inches apart and he’s pretty sure Harry wasn’t _actually_ trying to give him a heart attack by nearly kissing him, but still. Those fifteen seconds were good enough to fuel Louis’ imagination for the next year.

 

“No, of course not,” Louis answers once he realizes Harry is waiting for a reply. “You couldn’t scare me away from this painting even if you tried. I loved it before, but I think I may love it even more now that I know it has a story. I’d still want to look at it every day even if you had told me you painted it when you were high on acid.”

 

Harry barks out an unexpected laugh, covering his mouth with his hand in an attempt to hide just how pleased he is to hear that.

 

“You know, Louis. I think you just may be my favorite and most interesting interested buyer ever.” Louis blushes, all too happy to accept the title.

 

*

 

He knows it’s late by the time the studio crowd starts clearing out for the night, but Louis doesn’t actually care about the time and the fact that he and Harry are two of the last people there. He’s too busy having fun talking with him where they’re sitting right below the painting of the woods. Louis’ no expert on buying art, but he’s pretty sure most transactions don’t feature artist and buyer sitting side by side cracking up at literally nothing.

 

“Holy shit,” Louis wheezes. “You seriously brushed your teeth with _acne cream_? How does that even happen? They don’t smell or taste anything alike!”

 

Harry buries his red face in his hands, his face practically splitting in two from how wide he’s smiling. “I know, I know!” he groans, “But in my defense, I had just woken up so I couldn’t see for shit, the tubes were the exact same size, and I had drunk so much the night before that I was still a little tipsy the next morning. My chances of not fucking that up were slim to none.”

 

His surprisingly good explanation only makes Louis laugh harder. “Fuck, how long did it take you to realize? _Please_ tell me it took all morning.”

 

“I didn’t notice something was weird until I went to rinse and my mouth felt all chalky and bitter and just fucking _wrong_. I had to undergo _several_ rounds of mouthwash to get it all out.”

 

“And did the acne cream do anything to you? Like, did it burn your mouth or your tongue or something?”

 

“Nope. I felt fine after. And now thanks to the fact that I’m a literal idiot, my teeth will forever be blemish free.”

 

Louis loses it, laughing so hard that his stomach aches around the butterflies swirling around inside of it. “That’s literally the _best_ thing I’ve ever heard. It’s even better than that time Niall got stuck in the lifts at work because no one told him maintenance was working on them.”

 

 _“_ Oh my God _._ How long was he trapped in there? Please tell me it was at least a solid thirty minutes,” he says, already giggling out of anticipation of Louis’ answer.

 

“Oh, it’s much better than thirty minutes. No one even noticed he was missing for half of the morning. He was in the lifts for four and a half hours before the secretary finally realized something was wrong!”

 

Louis is crying. Hot tears of laughter are streaming down his face just like Harry who’s now curled over with his shoulders shaking up and down because he’s laughing so hard that he can’t push out any sound. Louis has told that story nearly a dozen times, but it’s never been as hilarious as is it right now. The two of them have been utterly ridiculous like this for the better part of an hour. They made such a racket earlier that the studio director poked her head in at them to see what the hell was making those strangled noises. Her eyes zeroed in on him and Harry as the culprits, but to Louis’ surprise she said absolutely nothing about them being obnoxious. Not even a light reprimand. He guesses it’s because this is _Harry’s_ section of the studio and if he wants to spend his big night flopped over onto his side to cackle about the time Louis fell and busted his lip going _up_ the stairs of a bus, then so be it.

 

Niall and the rest of the boys had come searching for them as well as things started winding down. They came around the corner with these smug, all-knowing expressions as they inquired whether or not the two of them were coming with everyone else to get drinks. Louis had already mentally accepted the invite in hopes that in turn, Harry would want to come too, but he didn’t even have to use the pub as an excuse to keep hanging out with him because right when Louis was about to agree, Harry announced that he’d rather stay right where he was because he was already having a good time. To say Louis’ face was sunshine itself when he essentially told Niall and his friends to get lost is an understatement. 

 

“We should probably leave soon,” Harry says once their laughs trickle down. They’re mostly quiet except for the errant giggle that one of them lets out every now and then. Harry’s right though. The studio director has been circling around the building like a vulture with a set of keys in her hand for the last twenty minutes, silently begging them to get the fuck out with her eyes.

 

“Yeah, we should go.” Louis stands up from the floor, his legs and butt asleep from being down there for so long. He reaches out a hand to help Harry up as well and tells himself not to read too much into the fact that Harry holds onto it long after he’s gained his balance.

 

“So, Harold. Your sports car or mine?”

 

At first, Harry frowns at him and then a loud bark of laughter echoes around the room. His cheeks are still pink from earlier and he’s just so radiant that Louis can’t help but think he’s easily the most gorgeous man he’s ever seen.

 

“Definitely yours. I have never been behind the wheel of a car. I didn’t get the chance since these started to go when I was around fifteen remember?” he says with a quick point at his beautiful eyes.

 

“Same,” Louis laments with a sigh. “I’ve never really been behind the wheel of a car either.”

 

“Really?” Harry frowns, clearly surprised by this. “How come?”

 

“Oh, I have perfect vision,” Louis assures him. “I'm just a liability because I can’t drive for shit.” A new bark of laughter from Harry fills the room as Louis joins right in. He can’t remember the last time he laughed this much. Probably never. “Come on. We’ll get a cab since we’re both downright useless.” Louis gently takes Harry’s hand to help guide him through the dim studio, not even because of his vision. Just because he likes the feeling of their fingers laced together.

 

It’s a lot darker out on the street than it was inside. Even with the street lamps on overhead Louis has to squint in order to see out into the street. Harry’s grip tightens on Louis’ hand a bit when an empty car stops to pick them up. He only lets go when they’re both nestled safely in the back seat on opposite ends. Louis wiggles his fingers around, delighting in how tingly and warm Harry made them.

 

The two of them are quiet for the first time since they met just a couple of hours ago, which is a stark contrast to how ridiculous they were not even fifteen minutes ago, sprawled out on the floor of the art studio like they owned the place.

 

He thought he had gotten over the initial nervousness he had felt while meeting Harry, so he has no idea why he feels so on edge. It feels tense between them in the tiny car on the way to drop them both home; the air thicker somehow even though Louis knows it really isn’t. He chances a look to his left and his stomach flips finding Harry looking in his direction. He doesn’t notice just how small and shallow his breaths have become until Harry reaches out into the darkness in search of his hand again. Their fingers touch, Harry’s hand enveloping his own once he’s brave enough to do so and Louis’ breaths stop altogether along with his heart for a beat when Harry pulls his hand into his lap.

 

“I, uh- I really want to kiss you right now, but it’s really dark in here and I don’t want to miss and like, get your nose or your ear or something. It’s happened before,” he admits with a soft chuckle at himself.

 

His words send electricity straight to Louis’ chest, filling his body with new energy until his heart is beating so loud he can hear it in his ears.

 

“Okay. I’ll come to you then,” Louis says as he slides across the back seat to close the gap between them. Harry feels his way up Louis’ arm until his hand is cupping his face just like earlier when he traced Louis’ cheeks. The pad of his fingers touch Louis’ lips first, feeling out their shape and location before he finally leans in, closing his mouth right over Louis’.

 

Perfect aim.

 

Harry’s hands are strong where one is holding his cheek and the other is pressed against his chest, right over Louis’ heart, absorbing every hard thud that it makes.

 

Their lips slow to an eventual stop and all Louis can think is that it’s too soon. His eyes flutter open to find Harry grinning and looking as best as he can into Louis’ eyes. If Harry was having trouble seeing inside of the studio he must be seeing close to nothing right now, but Louis swears he feels the weight of his gaze as if he were staring right into his soul.

 

“It’s alright that I did that? It wasn’t weird?” Harry checks after a whole minute ticks by without either of them saying anything.

 

Louis shakes his head, internally rolling his eyes at himself because Harry can’t fucking see that.

 

“No, Harry, of course not. I’m actually really glad you did it because I was way too nervous to even try.”

 

Relief blooms across Harry’s face in the form of a shy grin. He bites down on it, and Louis immediately wishes he could do the same. “I was actually pretty terrified to kiss you. I was just… scared I guess. I don’t know why. I promise I’m usually a lot better at this,” he laughs. “I try to make a habit of doing things like this in the daylight so I can actually see what the hell I’m doing.” Louis doesn’t think he could handle a kiss _better_ than the one they just shared. He’s walking a thin line at holding it together as it is.

 

“Well, I for one think you did a wonderful job. Phenomenal. Ten out of ten, would kiss again.” He makes Harry laugh for the billionth time that night and Louis decides that happiness is what he likes most about Harry or perhaps the way his eyebrows furrowed in disbelief a minute ago when Louis admitted to being nervous around him.

 

The energy between them builds again until it’s too much. Louis holds his breath when Harry turns to him without hesitation this time. He closes his eyes, anticipating the increase of his pulse when Harry leans in towards him, except, his lips land somewhere near Louis’ right nostril rather than on his mouth and they both just end up laughing instead.

 

“I fucked it up.” Harry’s warm breaths fall against his cheek as he apologizes between chuckles. “I wasn’t even close was I? I told you that happens sometimes. I’m sorry.”

 

“No, I liked it,” Louis says through a smile. “It was nice. Like one of those Eskimo kisses.”

 

“Yeah, except I’m pretty sure those require _two_ noses and zero mouths,” Harry points out. “They definitely aren’t meant to mix.”

 

“Well, that’s one way to do it… if you want to be all _boring_ ,” Louis smirks. “I happen to like our way.”

 

“ _Our_ way, huh?”

 

The way Harry grins after he says that makes Louis’ entire body flush hot. 

 

*

 

When Louis wakes up the next morning he’s in an unfamiliar bed that smells like flowery detergent and feels like a fucking cloud. He lifts his head to search both sides of it, and sadly he finds no one lying there with him. He’d be lying if he said he wasn’t disappointed.

 

Louis remembers everything about the night before in explicit detail. How they arrived at Harry’s place first and Harry got himself out of the car and onto the pavement with no problem, though Louis still offered to walk him up to his flat regardless, just in case.

 

Harry didn’t actually _need_ Louis’ help as he recalls. He entered his building, got inside the lift, located the button for the fifth floor, and made it to his door without needing any assistance whatsoever. Louis had felt a bit dumb and out of place for assuming that Harry might need him for something he’s clearly capable of handling himself, that is until he felt Harry’s hand tentatively slide into his own to invite him inside.

 

Harry had lured him in with his dimples and his warm hands and the promise of a late-night ice cream binge even though Louis would’ve gladly come inside without any of those things. He would’ve done whatever Harry asked of him, which is why after paying for the cab that only completed half of it’s intended journey, they had dessert for dinner and fell into bed together, never going any further than a few heated kisses and hands exploring just under the hems of shirts; a relatively tame night in comparison to others Louis has had.

 

He sits up in bed letting his fingers run over his lips that are still a bit sensitive from last night. He fucking loves that. He loves the fact that Harry’s the reason they feel that way even more.

 

He searches for his phone and finds it still tucked in the left pocket of his jeans with two messages from last night wishing him good luck and three from this morning asking for details, but not so much detail that he’ll be scarred from ever having sex again.

 

Louis quickly informs him that he and Harry did _not_ have sex and then sends one more message telling Niall to fuck off, mind his own business, and go back to sleep.

 

“Oh, good. You’re awake,” comes a pleasantly deep voice that makes Louis think of thick honey and warm tea. Coincidentally, Louis looks to the doorway just in time to see Harry carefully walking through it with a mug in both hands. Louis moves to get up and help him, but the rustling of the sheets gives him away.

 

“No, no. I’ve got it. I’m just taking my time so I don’t spill anything,” he explains.

 

“Okay,” Louis says rather than nodding like he kept doing last night. “Thanks for this by the way. You didn’t have to go to all that trouble.”

 

“You’re welcome. And it was no trouble at all. I’ve been up for a few hours,” Harry says just as he makes it to the side of the bed. He hands Louis one of the mugs before slowly dropping down onto his side of the mattress to join him. “It takes my eyes a while to adjust to being awake so I usually wake up pretty early. I didn’t want to disturb you.”

 

Harry had mentioned that last night. That his vision is close to nothing in the dark due to his night blindness, but he says that’s why he prefers daylight so much more.

 

“So, things are clearer for you right now?” It must be with all the sunlight streaming in from the large windows surrounding them. There are huge windows throughout Harry’s entire flat, which Louis didn’t give much thought to last night when his main focus was falling into bed with the man, but he sees now that his home is flooded in so much natural light that it’s like living right beneath the sun.

 

“Mhmm,” he hums over his tea. “Things are much better. My sight will never be twenty-twenty again. RP makes it hard for me to see the entire picture, but I still get most of it.”

 

“Okay. Yeah, I get what you mean,” Louis nods before taking a sip of his tea. It’s a little sweeter than he usually takes it and going a bit cold, but Harry made it for him and took his time bringing to his bedside so it’s a perfect cuppa based on those facts alone. Harry glances over and meets his eyes; _really_ meeting them this time and grins at Louis’ response and the way his nose crinkles from the taste of his drink.

 

“Do you really get what I mean or are you just humoring me? I won’t be offended if you’re just saying it.”

 

Louis breathes a laugh into his tea because yeah, definitely more of the second one.

 

“Okay, Styles, you caught me. I have no idea what you mean. I’m sorry. I’m trying to picture it so I can understand, but...”

 

“No, don’t apologize. It’s okay,” he assures him. Harry sets his mug down on his bedside table and angles his body so that he’s facing Louis a bit more. “So at night, last night for instance, it’s kind of like being inside a massive dark room and the only light is coming from a small candle that you’re holding right in front of your face. It helps when there’s other candles in the room of course, like lamps or the studio lights illuminating the paintings, but it’s difficult to see anymore than that. I could see you and Niall and everyone else last night. You just weren’t very clear. Almost like smoke from the candle billowing right over your face, hiding the details of it.”

 

It _does_ make a lot more sense when he explains it that way. Normal dark to him is super dark to Harry and Louis’ eyes can adjust to take in even the dimmest light in the room whereas Harry’s have a lot more trouble.

 

“And now?”

 

“Now that I’m awake. I see you almost perfectly. Your face, your nose that I accidently snogged, your smile… I especially like your smile now that I can see how nice it is. Oh, and your eyes. They’re blue, I could tell that last night, but now I know that they’re a blue that I could never replicate even if I sat down with my easel and mixed different shades of it for a thousand years.”

 

A large gulp of tea slips down the back of Louis’ throat without warning when Harry places a hand on his leg and Louis notices a few streaks of light-blue paint dried to his skin. Louis nearly chokes on it, his stomach alive and fluttering because Harry just stated the obvious by saying he has blue eyes, but it’s the _way_ he said it and if he’s painting a new masterpiece featuring Louis’ eyes he may just have to marry him. Like, today.

 

“Oh. And, uh, have you been painting this morning?” Louis asks even though it’s obvious that he has.

 

Harry bites at his bottom lip, using his nails to scratch away some of the dried paint on the back of his hand. “Yeah… I was feeling pretty inspired. Hope you don’t mind.”

 

“Nope. Not at all,” Louis shakes his head, hating that Harry can probably see how red his cheeks are since the sunlight is streaming right over him.

 

 

Louis goes home that afternoon giddy and just a little bit high off the fact that he just spent his whole Friday night and Saturday morning with a man who accidentally kissed more parts of his face than Louis can count and who must’ve poured half a bag of sugar into his single cup of tea, but that’s just fine with him. He’d do it all again in a heartbeat. He really hopes he gets the chance to soon.

 

He has Harry’s number in his phone now and even though Harry is all he thinks about for the rest of the weekend he doesn’t call or text him. He doesn’t want to come on too strong too soon. They’ve known each other for literal hours and yet somehow Louis is dying to see him again, daydreaming about his voice and his smile and his painting that Louis still fully intends to purchase at some point in the very near future.

 

It’s Monday before Louis hears anything from Harry again and strangely enough it comes in the form of a note card of all things. He walks into his and Niall’s shared office and freezes in his tracks when he sees a large flat box propped up against his desk with a huge bouquet of roses on top of it. Niall tosses him an envelope with his name written across it. He opens it immediately not even blinking when Niall snorts at the speed with which his hands move.

 

‘ _Dear Louis,_

_Thanks so much for keeping me company at my showcase on Friday night and for pretending to like the awful tea that I made you the next morning. Yes, I saw you frowning, but you were sweet for not calling me out on it. I know you’ve said you’re interested in buying my paining and I’m incredibly humbled by your support, but honestly, it’d mean a lot more to me for you to just have it. As far as I’m concerned, it belongs with you and I’m happy it has a new home, but if you think it’s too much or you decide that you don’t want it after all, do me a favor and maybe let me take you out for dinner instead? Even if you do decide to keep it, I’d still love to take you out._

_Thanks again for making Friday the best showcase I’ve ever had. Hoping to hear from you soon,_

_\- HarryXx’_

“Gosh, I wonder who this big _obnoxious_ gift that’s mysteriously shaped just like a giant fucking painting is from?” Niall asks from his desk.

 

Louis was so preoccupied with tracing over Harry’s date proposal that he nearly forgot about the more than generous gift that came with it. He rushes over to it, letting his hand feel over the front of the box before he hurries to open one side of it. He pulls at the edge of the painting, sliding it out just enough for him to see bold, vibrant green staring back at him.

 

“Oh, let me guess. Is it from Harry?” Niall mutters with a bored sort of tilt of his head. “I bet my left arse cheek it’s from Harry.”

 

Louis is (ignoring Niall fucking Horan) smiling so much that his cheeks hurt. He slides down the front of his desk to sit on the ground beside it, holding Harry’s note to his chest. His best friend rolls his eyes when he accidentally lets out a small squeal that he didn’t even know he was capable of making, and if Niall tells people about it like Louis is ninety-nine point nine percent sure that he will, he’ll just deny it and say he’s a compulsive liar.


	2. Chapter 2

Dinner with Harry that night quickly transformed into either a meal together or some other random excuse to see each other every day. Before Louis knew it, a month had flown by followed by another and then another until he found himself being one-half of this amazing, all-encompassing relationship that he never even saw coming. He and Harry went from zero to sixty from the word go and now that they’ve officially hit the one-year mark Louis’ thrilled to find that nothing has changed.

 

Neither of them has ever made it this far before. That’s what makes what they have together so special. Louis gave up on finding love a long time ago with all the idiots he’s been with and Harry didn’t think love would ever be in the cards for him, but clearly they were both wrong. They found each other and now they _have_ each other and it’s the most comforting feeling Louis’ ever known.

 

He drums his fingers against his leg on the cab ride over to Harry’s flat. He gets a text from Niall asking if he and Harry would like to come out with him and the rest of the boys tonight after their anniversary dinner.

 

It’s a lovely offer. It’s also one that Louis quickly declines for the both of them, because this is their one fucking year. A span of time like that takes all night to properly acknowledge and celebrate. So does all the marathon sex he’s planning on having with Harry later.

 

When he arrives he lets himself inside of his boyfriend’s building and pulls out the key to his door, grinning when he finds it already unlocked for him.

 

He steps inside and heads straight for the mirror hanging up in the entranceway to check his hair, happy to see it still in place where it’s all swept back. He remembers the night that he met Harry dressed like he was going to pick up groceries rather than about to meet the love of his life. He looks the part tonight though; like he’s about to spend his evening with the most beautiful, talented, intelligent, loving person in the entire world. He honestly doesn’t know how he got so lucky.

 

“Is that you, babe?”

 

Louis grins at his reflection, still giddy over hearing Harry call him that even though he’s been using the endearment since the first few months they’ve been together.

 

“Yeah, it’s me!” he calls back, finally deeming his appearance acceptable as he bounds off in the direction of Harry’s voice. He pokes his head into his bedroom first and isn’t at all surprised to find it empty. Louis passes the first spare bedroom on the left and ignores it, knowing his boyfriend isn’t in there either. He walks to the end of the corridor and pushes open the door of Harry’s other spare room, the one he spends more time in than any other place in the world.

 

Louis steps into a room bathed in so much light that Louis has to squint a bit upon entering it. He finds his boyfriend there alright, sitting right by the window like always even though the sun is barely even visible anymore from how late it is. The lack of natural light doesn’t matter though, because the entire room is flooded by Harry’s bright studio lights that Louis never wants to know the price of because he’s sure they cost a fortune. They illuminate him making him look even more ethereal and dreamlike than he already does in his date outfit. The outfit he picked just for tonight.

 

“I knew I’d find you in here.” Louis wraps his arms around Harry’s shoulders and presses a kiss behind his ear. He smells spectacular just like always, making Louis’ heartbeat increase a bit from the familiarity of his scent. “You smell amazing,” he hums.

 

“You always say that,” Harry tells him.

 

“That’s because it’s always true.”

 

Harry puts down the tiny brush he was using to paint the details of a sunrise that he and Harry watched a few months ago from the rooftop of Louis’ building after the huge birthday party they threw for Niall. It’s beautiful even with the majority of it being a big blur like most of his paintings these days. Louis loves every one of them just as much as the giant painting of the forest that proudly hangs in Louis’ living room at home or the portrait of himself with electric blue eyes that Harry started painting the morning after they met.

 

He grins when Harry turns on his stool to face him and captures his lips in a kiss. He pulls away right as Louis hums his great satisfaction at the feeling of his lips, frowning because they were just getting into it.

 

“Why aren’t you kissing me?” he mumbles with his eyes still closed hoping Harry will get the hint and come back to him.

 

“Because I want to see how gorgeous you look. I can kiss you later,” Harry explains as he takes Louis’ hand to guide him a few steps away. His eyes are focused due to the brightness of the room as he takes in Louis’ ensemble. He smiles to himself when Louis’ face goes a bit pink from being so blatantly appreciated by him. “God, Lou. You look amazing. You’re all anyone’s going to be able to look at tonight.”

 

“Yeah, aside from you maybe. I’ve always loved the way this jacket fits you,” Louis says as he lets his fingers trail along its lapels. “I think I love it even more with all that bright yellow paint splashed across the front of it.”

 

“ _What_?” Harry gasps as his gaze drops to his own chest. “Shit. I thought I was being so careful…” he complains as he searches himself over in vain.

 

Louis only lets him suffer for a second or two before giggling.

 

“You _were_ being careful, love, because there isn’t a drop of paint on you. I was only joking.”

 

Harry’s eyes are quite fond as well as unimpressed when he looks up from his blazer. He only glares at Louis for a moment before he cracks a smile and bright, bubbly laughter fills the room. “Get over here,” he says, pulling Louis in by the waist to stand between his legs.

 

He lets Harry kiss him again, his stomach doing all kinds of flip-floppy motions when Harry gently bites down on Louis’ bottom lip and squeezes his hands around his bum as payback for being a twat. Honestly, the fact that Harry always gets a bit handsy with him after he’s a little shit is the whole reason he does it in the first place. Somehow, he thinks Harry probably knows this since he never ever complains.

 

“You’re gorgeous,” Louis admits once Harry’s all done dishing out his punishment. “Jacket and all. Even if you had gotten paint everywhere. You’d still be stunning. Perfect.”

 

“Alright, now you’re making me blush.” Good. Louis often feels like he hasn’t done his job if Harry isn’t showered with a million praises and compliments each day even though really he deserves a billion.

 

Harry’s lips are pulled up into a happy little grin and Louis can’t help but make it spread even wider by leaning in for another kiss. They’re going to be here all night if they keep this up.

 

“Are you almost ready to go?” Louis’ eyes fall on the display of organized materials laid out next to Harry on his work table. He had always thought artists were disorganized, eccentric beings by nature until he met Harry. His work space is always neat and immaculate, mostly so he can locate things on days that his eyes don’t want to cooperate.

 

“I’m ready. I was just working a bit until you got here. I got dressed too early.”

 

Louis grins hearing that, picturing Harry getting ready hours before he actually needed to. “Trying to impress me, were you?” he teases.

 

“All the time, babe. Always.” There’s a sincerity in his voice that makes Louis’ heart beat a little faster. He doesn’t even realize he’s blushing until Harry’s thumb traces over the warmth of his cheeks. “I love you.”

 

His heart thumps a new excited rhythm. It does so every time Harry says those words to him. The people closest to Louis like his friends and family say them enough that he should be over the novelty by now, but they just sound different coming from Harry. Those three words _are_ different coming from Harry.

 

“I love you too, Haz. So much.”

 

Louis watches in awe as his words have the same effect on his boyfriend, brightening up his face more than any of the lights in the room.

 

“We should probably go. We don’t want to miss our reservation.”

 

Harry’s right, they do have somewhere to be although Louis wouldn’t mind staying right where they are, kissing each other and being completely gross in their nice outfits just because. “Alright. Let’s go,” he agrees.

 

 

The man who greets them at the door of their favorite date spot smiles and welcomes them inside when they arrive. They get led to their usual table in the private room upstairs where they’ve been coming since the first night that Harry ever took him out.

 

This restaurant isn’t as dark and romantically moody as most places like this tend to be at night. Sparkly chandeliers hanging from the ceiling fill the room with shimmery, speckled light that dances across the floor and the walls. There are candles on almost every surface that illuminate the tables well enough that Harry doesn’t have to struggle to see things that are right in front of him. Their table in the private room has its own chandelier and the staff here knows that Harry has difficult seeing so they always add extra candles to their table to make it easier. Those key factors easily make this restaurant their top choice for celebrating special occasions such as tonight. It’s perfect.

 

Louis glances up from reading the descriptions of the different dishes he’s yet to try here to find Harry watching him with fond eyes. Louis grins when Harry does, breathing out a laugh because he always catches Harry staring at him like that.

 

“What?”

 

Harry shakes his head as way of saying nothing even though it certainly looks like he’s thinking about something.

 

“You don’t want to look at your menu?”

 

“No,” Harry shakes his head again. “I already know what I want.”

 

There’s heat pouring from his steady gaze and Louis feels every bit of it even though he’s on the opposite end of the table from him. Louis clears his throat and pretends like he can’t feel Harry’s foot slowly dragging along his ankle beneath the table or his eyes settled on the open collar of his shirt.

 

“You’re not going to make this dinner easy on me are you?”

 

“What do you mean?” Harry asks with a subtle lick over the seam of his lips. “I’m not even doing anything,” he smiles, which is a complete lie because Harry’s doing _a lot_. Louis has read the same sentence on his menu six times and still doesn’t know what the hell it says.

 

In the end he just picks something he can pronounce and hopes for the best.

 

They watch one another over their food and light conversation about their days. When they’re finished, their waiter brings them a special anniversary dessert cake with a fancy number one drawn on top of it in white icing. Louis is pretty sure those cakes are technically for _marriage_ anniversaries, but neither him nor Harry corrects him. After all, who turns down free dessert?

 

Louis has been on pins and needles all evening by the time they’re paying for their meal and he’s replied to Niall another half dozen times to tell him to fuck off because they are not under any circumstances going out with him.

 

Their cab ride is tame considering how much Louis wants to climb into Harry’s lap and begin the second half of their evening, but he refrains, satisfied for the moment with the warm hand that Harry keeps on his thigh.

 

They manage to hold it together until they’re back at Harry’s flat, hands flying and mouth crashing together as soon as the front door closes behind them.  

 

Harry pushes him back against it, dropping kisses in various places all over Louis’ face because neither of them has bothered to turn on the lights, but Louis doesn’t care. He loves it when Harry gets so worked up that all he wants is to touch him no matter how peculiar of a place his hands or lips end up. He pulls at Louis’ collar and moves to suck at the skin that Louis feels prickling up with goose bumps with every swipe of his tongue. “I love you,” Harry breathes against him as he works to unbutton the rest of his shirt.

 

Louis’ breath catches in his throat as Harry shoves his shirt out of the way and runs his teeth along the skin just under his ribcage. “Love you too,” he gasps at the feeling. “Being with you has been the best three hundred and sixty-five days of my life.”

 

Harry stops and straightens back up to see him. It’s pretty much pitch black in here so even Louis is having trouble seeing at the moment, but he can still feel Harry’s gaze just as strongly as he can feel his own heart pounding in his chest. “Me too,” Harry says eventually, slightly out of breath from the burst of energy he unleashed as soon as they were alone. “I’ve never been so happy.”

 

“Same. Me either,” Louis whispers. He can’t believe how stupidly happy he is on most days, and this is just year _one_. There’s no way it gets any better.

 

When Harry leans in again, it’s much softer than before. Louis sighs from how light his touches come before he pulls away and takes Louis by the hand to expertly guide them through his moonlit flat. They laugh when Louis accidentally bangs his shin on Harry’s living room table. It hurts like hell and will most definitely bruise but Harry is there to kiss him and make him forget all about it.

 

“Which one of us is supposed to be the blind one again?” Harry laughs once they get to his bedroom where there is less furniture for Louis to be attacked by.

 

“Oh, shut up. You know I don’t have super powers like you. I am but a mere mortal.” Louis says as he sets to work kicking out of his shoes and pair of black jeans that are so tight he sighs once they’re finally off. His shirt is already open thanks to Harry so he simply slides it off his shoulders and lets it fall to ground with everything else.

 

“We’ve been over this before. I do not have super powers,” he snorts.

 

Louis begs to differ. He thought that whole concept of the other senses being heightened due to the loss of one was a myth, but Harry is living proof that it’s not. He hears things that Louis has to strain his ears to even faintly pick up, and he _never_ runs into his furniture or stubs his toe on corners, even on the days that he can barely see anything. His extreme sensitivity to touch is one of Louis’ favorite things about him. He takes full advantage of how even the lightest  feather-like touch overwhelms Harry’s skin once he glances over to see the last of Harry’s clothing falling to the floor beside Louis’. 

 

He moves closer and licks into Harry’s mouth until he’s breathless and then drops to his knees right in front of him. Louis grabs onto his hips and has his mouth on him before Harry can even catch his breath.

 

Harry’s hands completely destroy the little quiff that Louis spent so much time perfecting as he takes Harry so far into his mouth that his tip brushes the back of his throat. The desperate sounds falling from Harry’s lips spur Louis on until Harry’s hands are shaking where he’s pulling at Louis’ scalp.

 

“Fuck, Lou. I’ll come if you don’t stop,” Harry warns, but Louis doesn’t let up. He’s counting on Harry coming early so he swirls his tongue around his tip until he can taste Harry spilling into his mouth.

 

Harry lies back on the bed to collect himself with a blissful smile. Louis pulls open Harry’s bedside drawer and grabs the newest bottle of lube they been working on before settling himself on Harry’s lap to lick into his mouth as he comes down.

 

Harry takes the lube from him once his brain wakes back up and coats his long fingers with it. It’s still dark in the room so a lot of it spills onto his chest and the bed, but neither of them cares as he works his fingers into Louis, opening him up and making him shudder already each time he brushes over his spot.

 

Louis starts grinding down on his fingers and within minutes Harry’s hardening up again, his heart pounding beneath Louis’ palm where he’s bracing himself.

 

“Are you ready?” Harry asks.

 

“Yeah. Ready,” Louis nods.

 

Harry eases his fingers out of his body and rolls Louis onto his back. Louis’ eyes have adjusted enough to be able to watch Harry pour lube into the palm of his hand and evenly spread it over himself until he’s slick. He’s so hard that he’s straining and Louis opens his legs for him, more than ready to get to feel him. He lies perfectly still while Harry situates himself between his thighs. He feels around for a few seconds with his other hand until he’s perfectly lined up at Louis’ entrance. He expects the new pressure, but Louis’ breath still vacates his lungs when Harry finally pushes into him.

 

It’s a gradual plunge until Harry’s hips are pressed flush against his body. His thrusts are so shallow at first that it seems like he’s hardly even moving at all, but then he pushes Louis’ legs back even further to give himself more room and that’s when Louis’ brain turns to static.

 

All he registers is the feeling of Harry filling him up again and again with his hot breaths falling against his skin. He tries to kiss back when Harry’s lips trail their way to his mouth, but it’s mostly just the two of them breathing into one another like always.

 

The first time he and Harry had sex Louis hadn’t known what to expect because Harry had seemed so hesitant about it. He had apologized a dozen times before they even started because he was insecure about needing the lights on, an apology that was completely unnecessary because their first time was amazing. It was the best sex of Louis’ life and it has been that way between them ever since; pitch black or not.

 

They don’t even need the lights on anymore. Harry knows his body so well now that all he needs are his hands to map him out and Louis revels in every second that he gets to be touched by him. Just like right now as Harry feels his way between them to slowly jerk him off in time with his thrusts because Louis’ legs are shaking so much around him that he knows he must be close.

 

“Are you ready to come for me?”

 

Louis nods, knowing Harry can feel it where their foreheads are pressed together. He clings to Harry when he comes undone, spilling between them in hot bursts that leave his limbs and bones feeling like jelly.

 

His arms stay wrapped tight around Harry’s shoulders, whispering encouragement into his ear until Harry’s coming inside of him with a bitten off moan. Harry rolls off of him and onto his side as they both work to calm their breathing. Slowly, Louis’ senses come back to him as he pushes his damp hair away from his forehead. He blinks up at the ceiling that now has these peculiar tiny spots of light dancing across it from how hard he just came.

 

“ _Fuck_. That was so good I’m seeing stars,” he drawls.

 

“Really?” Harry frowns. “That’s weird. I can’t see anything.”

 

Louis’ sluggish brain takes a moment to catch up to that and then he’s cackling into Harry’s side because he’s a fucking idiot. “God, I love you,” he laughs. He connects their mouths and enjoys the way Harry’s smiling against him, sighing because he oftentimes doesn’t even know what to do with so much of a single emotion.

 

“I love you more,” Harry whispers.

 

“Impossible.” Louis smiles as he trails his mouth along his boyfriend’s neck, hoping to tease him into being ready for another round. “And just think, this year flew by and now there’s only three hundred and sixty-five more days until our _next_ anniversary,” he smirks.

 

“Thank God,” Harry mumbles around their kiss when Louis’ lips find his. “Our dicks are probably going to need that long just to recover from tonight.”

 

Louis splutters a laugh right into his mouth, thankful that they love each other totally and completely, spit and all.

 

*

 

Another three hundred and sixty-five days do fly by along with a few extra ones as well. He and Harry have been going strong for two long years and they still only have eyes for each other; more in love than Louis ever thought possible. Maybe even more so now, he thinks.

 

The two of them are a team; partners in crime and in life as far as Louis is concerned, but still, he can’t help but want more. He oftentimes dreams about their lives five years from now, _fifteen_ years from now and in every scenario he is Harry’s husband. Every time he wakes he longs for his dream to be reality. To belong to Harry in every sense of the word.

 

He started thinking about marriage long before he started hinting around about it. Not even just to Harry, to everyone close to them who might have some sort of insight as to why Louis’ finger continues to remain engagement ringless even though he has basically made his ring size public knowledge. Harry is the one. He’s the _only_ one; something Louis realized within three minutes of them meeting each other. They’re in this big, crazy life together and he can see the rest of forever already laid out in front of them; he just needs the bloody marriage certificate to go with it.

 

He brings it up to Niall one afternoon at work. Just feeling him out. Fishing for as much valuable information as he’s willing to give. Louis hopes it’ll be a shit ton.

 

“So, Ni…me and you…” he begins. “You and Haz too...we’re all pretty much like, best mates, yeah?”

 

Louis grins at his friend after dropping a large box of Niall’s favorite chocolates onto his desk and then perching himself up on it.

 

Niall looks up from the blueprints he’s been working on, his eyes falling first on the gift of sweets and then narrowing as they move to Louis’ overly-kind grin and then his arse where it’s covering a large portion of his sketch paper. He gives a weary sigh, holding his face in his hands and Louis frowns because he hasn’t even asked Niall anything yet and he’s already being annoying.

 

“This is like one of those threesome things, isn’t it? You’re trying to negotiate with me with chocolate because you _know_ I can’t turn it down.”

 

Louis stops Niall from letting anymore words come out of his mouth before it gets any worse. If that’s even fucking possible.

 

“Wha-? Niall, what the _hell_ is wrong with you? Of course not,” he gags. Not to mention the gross factor of that, he just knows that neither him or Harry would have trouble seeing Niall’s pale, pale arse in the dark and that visual is way too much for this early in the day. Louis shudders just thinking about it.

 

“ _Me?_ You’re the one being all weird giving me candy and talking about _the three of us_ ,” he argues with air quotes. “What was I supposed to think? I mean, yeah, I guess I am pretty open to a lot of shit and I love the both of you, but, Jesus-”

 

“I can guarantee you that this is _not_ about an orgy,” Louis sighs. Nor will it ever be. His head hurts and Niall Horan is one hundred percent of the cause of it.

 

“Yeah, right. What’s it about then?” Niall asks as he rips open his ‘ _negotiation_ _chocolate’_ without a second thought. “Want some?” he asks through a mouthful.

 

“Er- no thanks. I bought them for you. Enjoy.”

 

Niall shrugs, clearly unbothered by Louis judging him. “Fine then. More for me. Now, back to this…whatever it is you’re trying to bribe out of me. What is it that you want then if not my coveted bedroom skills?” he asks with a wiggle of his eyebrows.

 

It takes every ounce of Louis’ maturity to not grimace. Or vomit.

 

“I want to get married one day. To _Harry_ ,” he emphasizes just in case Niall’s brain twists his words and the idiot convinces himself that Louis’ trying to marry _him_. “You and I are best friends and we tell each other pretty much everything. But you and Harry are _also_ best friends so I know he talks to you. He tells you things,” he explains before his voice involuntarily gets softer. “…Maybe even things that he doesn’t tell me.”

 

Like, despite the fact that he loves Louis with all his heart, he has no intention of ever committing to him. Louis never cared a whole lot about marriage before he met Harry. He didn’t think he’d ever find someone who he would want to share his life with and now that he has, he thinks about it all the time; mostly about how Harry has never even alluded to wanting the same thing. 

 

Niall’s expression is more serious once he hears the very real insecurity in Louis’ voice. He puts down the bag of sweets that he’s already eaten a good portion of and meets his eyes.

 

“What’s going on? Talk to me.”

 

Louis takes a deep breath feeling a bit like a traitor for talking to Harry’s best friend about this behind his back, but Niall is Louis’ best friend too and right now Louis needs him. “It’s nothing,” Louis assures him. “Everything is absolutely fine between us…amazing even. I just. I want to know if he ever talks about me to you.”

 

“When doesn’t he?” Niall rolls his eyes. “He never shuts up about you. I’ve never seen someone love another person so much except for you when it comes to him. Honestly, you’re both disgusting and you should be ashamed and jailed.”

 

A happy grin spreads across his face hearing that. He knows Harry loves him. He can feel it each day in every piece of his heart. “Okay. What else does he talk about?” Louis pushes.

 

“I don’t know, Lou. All kinds of stuff. He talks about how much he loves you. How you’re the best thing that’s ever happened to him. He says he can’t believe how lucky he is and all that other cliché rom-com shit that only people as gross as you two would say.”

 

His heart warms even more having it confirmed that he and Harry are on the same page about one another, but deep down he already knew that. It’s the future bit of all this that worries him.

 

“So, he never talks about the two of us like, getting married some day? Taking the next step a few years down the road?” Anytime Louis hints at a future together Harry just smiles with these big, warm eyes and tells him how much he loves him and loves being with him. It’s a flattering response. Just not exactly the one Louis keeps hoping for.

 

Niall drops his gaze to his hands after Louis stares him down in wait. “I feel a little guilty about what I’m about to say since he’s my mate and he’s not even here to defend himself, but honestly, Lou…I think stuff like that scares him.” Louis’ stomach often does strange flippy motions as a result of talking about his boyfriend, but it’s never clenched so uncomfortably before. “I’ve known him a lot longer than you have so I’ve seen him pretty low, Louis. I can promise you that he never expected to find someone like you in a million years and now that he has I think he’s terrified. Mostly because he knows you’re always going to be there.”

 

Louis nods though he doesn’t really get it. Isn’t having someone who loves you unconditionally supposed to be a _good_ thing?

 

“You’re right. I’m not going anywhere, so why would that scare him so much?”

 

“Probably because you’re going to be there for it all whether he likes it or not,” Niall shrugs. “Right now, things are alright. Things are good, but we all know that they won’t always be.”

 

Louis knows that without a doubt. He’s known that Harry’s sight has an expiration date since day one. It didn’t make a bit of difference then and it still doesn’t matter now. He loves Harry completely and that includes every version of him; seeing or inevitably, otherwise.

 

“You should talk to him. See where his head’s at,” Niall suggests after a long pause. “I’m sure he’d love to spend the rest of his life with you, Louis. He just may not know that’s what _you_ want. He may not even know it’s an option.”

 

 

Louis takes Niall’s advice a few days later when he and Harry go out for their belated two-year anniversary dinner. They didn’t get to have it on the actual night because Harry had a migraine so painful that he ended up taking a steady dose of his pain medication for the next twelve hours while he slept it off. He gets these awful headaches behind his eyes sometimes that make Louis’ chest ache for him because there’s literally nothing he can do to fix it except hold him until it passes.

 

They had a pretty rough weekend, but tonight Harry is back to his same bright and wonderful self. Louis thinks he’s never looked more beautiful than he does in all black with his full hair swept up and away from his face. He’s just as radiant and lovely as ever where he grins at Louis from across the table making him feel like he’s only other person in the world let alone in their private room. Louis thinks back to around this time last year when they were sitting in these exact spots celebrating year one. He figured he loved Harry as much as humanly possible back then, but he was wrong because somehow Louis now loves him a million times more. Like his heart expanded just to make it possible.

 

Louis’ lips turn up into a grin when he feels Harry gently toeing at his bare ankles beneath the table like always, sending goose bumps up his leg. “This has been the best seven hundred and thirty days of my entire life,” Louis declares after they dig into their anniversary cake with a fancy number two drawn on top of it. He watches as Harry drags a finger through it and sucks it off because he loves the frosting the best.

 

“Me too,” he agrees. “Though, I think it’s probably more around seven hundred and thirty- _seven_ days since we’re about a week late.” He laughs and his dimples are carved even deeper than usual in the candle light. He’s looking right at Louis when his eyes slowly lose some of their bright sparkle. “I’m really sorry we didn’t get to do this on our actual anniversary.”

 

Harry had felt so ill last week that he was almost in tears at one point. Louis was the one who forced him to bed as he kept insisting on getting dressed for their date even with his head pounding. Louis spent last weekend with his boyfriend tucked into his side just making sure he was going to be okay, but he didn’t mind in the slightest. He never minds being there for Harry when he needs him.

 

“Haz, I’ve told you before, we can pay way too much for dinner and eat cake anytime. The date on the calendar doesn’t matter as long we’re together.”

 

Harry reaches across the table to hold Louis’ hand in his. He grins to himself and holds Louis’ gaze as well when he whispers that he’s so lucky to have someone in his life who loves him as much as Louis does.

 

 

Louis is leading the way down the stairs once they finish, listening for each of Harry’s careful footsteps right behind his when all of a sudden the entire first floor breaks out into a random round of cheers and applause. It catches him and Harry off guard as they instantly freeze. It doesn’t take long to locate the cause of such a reaction, Louis’ eyes landing on a couple standing on the far side of the room with faces as bright as the chandelier they’re standing under.

 

“What’s going on?” Harry asks, squinting over the long distance.

 

Louis grins at the sparkling ring the man slides on his new fiancé’s finger. “Couple just got engaged,” he relays.

 

It’s sweet how long the couple holds each other in celebration. He can tell that the girl isn’t used to so much open attention because she’s as red as a tomato, but it still warms his heart to see two people so obviously happy and in love. He only lets himself be envious for a second or two before switching back to being happy for them.

 

He feels Harry rest an easy hand at the small of his back once the applause settles down. “Ready to go, love?”

 

Louis nods and continues his descent down the stairs. He grins back at the couple who’ve now taken their seats again. His grin grows even wider when Harry silently slips his hand into his because hopefully one day, that will be them.

 

It’s so nice out that they decide to walk back rather than taking a cab, Harry allowing Louis to gently guide him through the night. They walk in comfortable silence with their arms slightly swinging together when Louis takes a deep breath and decides to test the water like Niall said.

 

“We should play a game,” he suggests. “We’ll tell each other the best proposal story we’ve ever heard and see whose is best.” Louis grins up at his boyfriend and watches his lips stretch to copy his.

 

“Okay, babe,” he agrees. “What are the stakes? What happens if I win?”

 

“I’ll ride you into sunrise _and_ wash your sheets for you tomorrow morning. I may even cook later depending on how spectacularly your story beats mine.”

 

Harry barks out a laugh earning them several strange looks from people passing by. “Alright, strange stakes, but I accept. Now, what about if you win?”

 

“Same as you. I’m still gonna ride you into sunrise, but you’re doing your own bloody laundry afterwards because I’ll _definitely_ need a nap. And you’re cooking. I want pancakes with a shitload of chocolate chips.”

 

His boyfriend laughs again, a delightful sound that makes people glance at them again. “Okay, deal. This will be easy. I’ll go first,” he volunteers. “It was my mum’s best friend. She got engaged _underwater_ while _scuba diving_ in _Indonesia_. I’m pretty sure nothing can beat that,” he smirks. “Her husband wins at proposing. And at life in general.”

 

“That is pretty good. Impressive,” Louis admits as he nods. “It’s a bit flashy for my taste. A bit wet as well,” he jokes making Harry knock his elbow into his as he giggles. This is good Louis thinks. The conversation they’re having right now is the longest one they’ve ever had on the subject.

 

“So, you think you can do better than scuba diving in Indonesia?” It’s a direct challenge which makes Louis laugh because Harry’s taking this made-up game so seriously. It’s honestly just a testament to how lazy they both are because they _loathe_ doing the fucking laundry.

 

“Okay, mine isn’t _that_ cool, but I still think it’s pretty good. You have to promise not to laugh though,” he warns. Harry bites back a giggle as he nods his agreement.

 

“Alright, so mine is this couple who had just had a baby. They were super young, like way younger than we are so the place they moved into together was like the size of your bedroom,” he chuckles. “One day the man was coming home from work and he saw this small ring as he was passing by a shop that he just couldn’t leave behind. He bought it and when he got home he told his girlfriend how much he loved her even with spaghetti sauce splashed all over her clothes and their baby crying her head off. He slipped that ring on her finger, promised her forever, and that was that. They got married a month later and they’ve been together ever since. Fifty-two years.”

 

Harry started listening to Louis’ story with a victorious smirk. He stops them underneath a yellow streetlamp once Louis finishes, his eyes not really locked with Louis’ but they’re close enough that he can read the heavy emotion there. “Who were they? The couple?” he asks.

 

“My grandparents,” Louis grins, feeling his chest warm because he loves telling that story just as much as he loves hearing it from his grandfather over and over again. “Why? Do you accept your defeat? Are you mentally preparing to make my pancakes?” he gloats.

 

Louis expects for Harry to put up a fight and claim that his story was best, but he just grins at Louis instead; this small, sad looking thing that seems so out of place on a night like this. A night meant to celebrate the two of them.

 

“Yeah, Lou. Their story is beautiful. You win.”

 

It sure doesn’t _feel_ like he won when Harry squeezes his hand and they start walking again. He mostly just feels confused.

 

Their silence feels heavier now and not quite as comfortable as it did earlier. Louis feels compelled to fill it, trying to figure out why Harry’s walls seem to have gone up again. Things were just going so well.

 

“So, um, yeah. That’s what my grandfather did. He tells that story all the time…” Harry nods, but doesn’t comment any further. “So… what would you do, Haz? If you could choose any way to propose or be proposed to?” Harry doesn’t immediately say anything this time either so Louis answers his own question. “Well, for me, I kind of like the really simple ones. Not that anything’s wrong with flashy of course,” he grins in case Harry _is_ into that sort of thing. “I just think it’s a bit more special the other way. The focus is just on the two people and the love, you know?”

 

“Yeah, I guess so. I’m probably not the best person to ask though. I’ve never really thought about it before,” Harry whispers as they turn down their street.

 

“Oh.”

 

He should probably let it go since Harry’s technically given him an answer, but he just can’t.

 

“I’m just curious, but, uh, why haven’t you?” he asks, his voice soft and careful so he doesn’t push Harry too hard when it’s already abundantly clear that he’s uncomfortable. “You’ve never pictured yourself getting married one day? …Not even us?”

 

He’s never really seen Harry’s face as pained as it looks right now. This time, it’s Louis who stops their journey down the street to hold both of his hands in his. “You can talk to me about this kind of stuff. I won’t get mad or judge. I just want to understand.”

 

“Lou,” Harry sighs, and for the first time in two years he gently pulls his hands out of Louis’, severing their connection as he roughly runs his fingers through his hair. Louis feels the absence of his hands like a blow to the chest. “Look, we already know what’s wrong with this picture. As much as I hate to admit it, we both know how this ends for me. Don’t make me have to say this. Not tonight.”

 

He’s practically pleading for Louis to drop the subject, and maybe they should. Nothing about this feels right as Harry’s words make fear and anxiety creep up his spine.

 

“Love, wait-” he begs, gently catching Harry’s forearm just before he starts walking again in his desperation to get home. “You said, ‘how this ends for you’. What does that even mean, Haz?”

 

“Louis, please. I hate talking about these kinds of things because it’s not fair to you. You think I don’t know that you want the house and the kids and a marriage just like everyone else? I saw how you looked at that couple at dinner just now. And- And the amount of admiration you have for your grandparents.” Harry sighs at the ground, no longer even attempting to meet his gaze. “I’ve been with you for two wonderful years, Louis. I _know_ you. I know what you want and I also know what you deserve. I want to be able to give you those things one day, but we both know that I can’t give you a normal life like that. You don’t want a husband you have to take care of all the time because he can’t do anything for himself. What child wants a father who can’t even help them with homework or anything because he can’t see?”

 

His voice had started rising, but not out of fear or anger towards Louis. It sounds more like he’s scared and mad at himself more than anything. Harry calms himself with a deep breath, his tone so much softer this time around.

 

“There are some people like me who _never_ get to experience a love like ours. I tell you how lucky I am to be with you all the time because it’s true. I love you with all of my heart and I’m so, so grateful for our time together, however ever long that may be, but when it gets bad; like- really bad? When my sight leaves and it doesn’t come back after a couple of days or a few weeks?” He shakes his head like even just imagining it hurts. “I don’t want to trap you into being with me by putting a ring on your finger. No matter how much I may want to, it’s not fair.”

 

Louis has never heard someone sound so frightened and frankly, just plain _wrong_. He’s wrong about all of it. Every word he speaks sinks Louis’ heart a little more until he’s sure it’s lying at the bottom of his stomach somewhere. Because if he could, he’d marry Harry right this second and wouldn’t look back.

 

“Harry, you have _never_ needed nor have you ever wanted anyone taking care of you even on horrible days. You’re the most independent person I know. And- And you’re _amazing_ with children, Haz. Kids love you and you love them too. I don’t understand what your lack of sight has to do with anything?”

 

“I try to be as independent as possible because I don’t like feeling helpless and when I’m around kids it’s only for a couple of hours at a time, not eighteen fucking years,” he bites back.

 

He’s never heard Harry snap at him before. It stings, but it doesn’t deter him. “Haz. Do you _really_ think those things?” That he’s helpless and incapable of having a normal life just because he’s going blind. “So, what then? Have you just been waiting around for the day I decide to get up and leave you because you have RP? Harry, you’ve been going blind since the day we met. Nothing has changed.”

 

It’s quiet after Louis says that. So quiet that they can hear sirens and other people’s conversations going on a bit further down the street.

 

“I think you deserve a choice and me marrying you isn’t giving you much of one,” Harry whispers.

 

That hurts almost as much as Harry pulling away from him, but Louis swallows it down. Harry wants him to give in. To admit that he’s right and that them getting married would be a mistake. Louis will not fucking do it. He’s not going to give Harry the satisfaction.

 

“Okay,” Louis nods after a while. “These are your feelings and that’s your opinion so you’re entitled to it, but I disagree.” He kind of wants to tell him he’s dead fucking wrong about _all_ of it, but it’ll only make things worse at this point when Harry’s mind is clearly made up.

 

 

They get back to Harry's and he heads straight for his bedroom without a word. Louis closes and locks the front door behind them but then hovers near the sofa in the living room.

 

Harry glances back at him in confusion when he realizes Louis is no longer behind him.

 

"I'm just going to sit here for a minute or two.” Louis says, breathing a sigh of relief when his back hits the cushions. He thinks he may need to sit there for a lot longer just to process everything that happened.

 

Harry nods at his explanation for his admittedly strange behavior. Anytime they come home, Louis is usually right at Harry’s heels, the both of them giggling through trying to beat the other to bed. “Okay,” Harry shrugs before continuing on to his room.

 

Louis feels lost. He’s completely out of his element once Harry leaves. They've never fought before. They've disagreed on some things sure, but never enough to make Louis think he may need to sleep here on the sofa or worse, go back to his own flat that he doesn't even really live in anymore. He just pays the fucking rent to keep from moving his things to storage.

 

His throat tightens as he looks around the room that he’s sitting in completely alone. He decides that some space apart may be good for them, at least just for tonight anyway, but then he hears Harry come back to stand in the doorway, watching him with hurt written all over his face.

 

"Um, are you coming to bed?" he asks, his voice small and fragile like Louis’ never heard it before. Louis has no idea how they got here.

 

"Yeah, I can. Do you want me to?" Louis had kind of been under the impression that Harry wanted to be by himself when he walked ahead of Louis the rest of the way back to his flat despite that fact that he can hardly see shit at night and he hates using his cane.

 

Harry quickly nods and Louis feels like he could cry seeing his boyfriend look so unsure. "Please?" he breathes.

 

Louis gets up from the sofa immediately and crosses the room to be with him. He follows behind Harry and strips out of his nice outfit while Harry slides under the sheets wearing an old t-shirt that they’ve swapped so often that Louis doesn’t even know who it really belongs to anymore.

 

He curls himself into Louis' side as soon as he climbs into bed next to him with a soft, "I'm sorry.”

 

Louis curls his arm around him to bring him closer and presses a kiss to his temple. "You don't need to apologize for anything. There's nothing to be sorry for, Haz. I just figured you were a little mad at me for pushing things so much. I’m the one who should be saying sorry."

 

He feels Harry shake his head where it’s lying on his shoulder. "I could never be mad at you, Louis. I love you," he whispers. His lips find Louis’ in the dark and the warmth of them is so familiar that Louis can finally breathe again.

 

It’s clear that this is an apology kiss. An, ‘ _I’m sorry_ ,’ even though Louis already told him it isn’t necessary. It quickly turns into something needier though, desperate almost like Harry can’t seem to get close enough to him even though there isn’t a breath of space between them.

 

When they have sex, Louis notices the reverent, fleeting way in which Harry runs his hands over his body. He always thought Harry’s tender touches were the result of how incredibly connected and in love they are, but Louis now wonders if it’s all just been a way for Harry to memorize him by feel. Like burning Louis into his memory is a kind of prelude to eventually saying goodbye.

 

Harry comes apart above him while they’re in the middle of a kiss that’s filled with so much unspoken emotion that Louis’ chest is heavy with it.

 

He holds Harry after and makes sure to tell him about a million times that he loves him and that he’s not going anywhere. He vows right then and there to spend forever making sure Harry believes it whether they ever marry or not.

 

*

 

Almost like some sort of cruel joke, after finally getting to the root of Harry’s aversion to settling down, his RP strikes with vengeance a few days later.

 

It has happened before. Louis has witnessed Harry’s sight take a nose dive for weeks at a time and he’s always handled it beautifully considering. He becomes a little subdued and he gets bit frustrated with himself because even simple tasks such as painting become very difficult for him when it gets this bad, but all of his feelings are completely understandable. Louis doesn’t know how he’d react going to bed with his vision and then waking up without it as Harry oftentimes does, but Harry has never let it get to him. That is until now.

 

This time it doesn’t just last for a few days. It doesn’t even last for a few weeks like it has on a couple of scary occasions. This time, Harry’s sight loss stretches on for months and it’s both frustrating and terrifying because nobody can tell them when or even if it’ll come back.

 

Louis goes with him to every appointment hoping they’ll be able to leave with some good news, but somehow they never do.

 

There’s even more deterioration of his retina now despite all the therapy he’s been undergoing since he was a teenager and it’s only getting worse. Louis looks at the photo scans that depict everything the specialists tell them. He wishes with all of his heart that their prognosis’ are wrong, but of course, they aren’t.

 

The mood is somber when it’s been three whole months with no change. Harry was heartbroken and inconsolable the day that the specialist he’s been seeing since he was fifteen years old told him that he may want to start accepting the fact that this time may really be it. Harry’s only twenty-six. He thought he had more time and his anger about such a betrayal from his own body is apparent. Turning thirty has always been like a death sentence to him. He doesn’t say much about the future, but whenever he does it’s obvious that he was pretty much counting on his RP cooperating with him until then. Louis can’t fix this. Nobody can and nothing that anybody says can really change the fact that at this rate, Harry’s vision probably won’t even make it through the year.

 

Any other time things have gone downhill, Harry has taken it in his stride. He’s quieter. _Slightly_ less silly than usual, but he’s still the same Harry. He’s still an adorable idiot who laughs abnormally loud, makes horrible, horrible jokes, and kisses Louis’ eyes and nose because he ‘has bad aim’. He’s never taken himself too seriously which is one of Louis’ favorite things about him. Like that time last year when he made Louis tape giant, glittery red hearts all over him for Niall’s Halloween party so he could go as ‘love is blind’. He has always been that way. He always makes dumb jokes about his sight, but this time it’s just different. It’s almost as if Harry’s different and that’s what scares Louis the most.

 

*

 

Louis comes home one day after work with a large bag full of groceries cradled in one arm as he searches for the key that he needs.

 

Once they realized that Harry’s vision loss may be permanent, Louis decided it was finally time to get rid of his old place and just move in. Not because Harry isn’t completely capable of living on his own. They moved in together because it just felt right. It was past time really.

 

He closes the door with his hip, toeing off his shoes as he quietly places the bag of food onto the living room floor when he spots Harry sleeping soundly on the sofa.

 

Louis tiptoes over and carefully balances himself on the edge of the cushions as he fits himself onto the sofa to lie down next to him. He lifts the blanket Harry’s using to cover them both, sighing at Harry’s warm scent now enveloping him. He runs his fingers through the longer pieces of Harry’s short hair, grinning at the way the strands turn up at the ends like little curls just waiting to happen.

 

Harry stirs after a few seconds of unconsciously leaning into Louis’ touch. He opens his eyes, grinning when he realizes Louis has trapped him between his body and the back of the sofa.

 

“Hey there, love.”

 

“Hey,” Harry yawns back, snorting a laugh when Louis leans in to kiss him before he’s even closed his mouth all the way. “That was probably _super_ attractive,” he smiles.

 

“Mmm. It was,” Louis hums, now peppering kisses all over Harry’s face simply because he missed him all day at work and he always looks so cute when he first wakes up. Harry scrunches up his nose, not actually trying to move away, just pretending like he doesn’t enjoy being attacked by Louis’ lips when Louis knows for a fact that he does. “Missed you.”

 

Harry blindly trails his hand up his shoulder and the side of his neck until he’s able to cup Louis’ face in one hand. He holds him still as he connects their lips in a proper hello and Louis sighs into it, his pulse kicking up a few notches because Harry’s aim was perfect. “I missed you too,” he whispers.

 

“How was your day, love?” Louis asks as he resumes running his fingers through Harry’s hair now that he’s awake to fully appreciate it.

 

“Fine.”

 

Short answer. Not a very good sign.

 

“Oh, yeah? That’s good,” Louis encourages him. “Do anything cool?”

 

Harry's eyes waver as they attempt to find Louis’. After a while, he closes them completely like even holding them open is tiresome.

 

“No, not really,” he answers eventually.

 

Louis figured he’d get a response like that. Harry hasn’t been up for discussing himself and how he spends his time at home at all these days. He _could_ go do things if he wanted. He’s just being stubborn.

 

“I saw your cane resting beside the table when I came in,” Louis says conversationally. “Did you go out today?”

 

Harry’s body tenses a bit at his question before relaxing at Louis’ touch against his arm. “Yeah, for a little while. I had to meet with a potential buyer.”

 

“Really? How’d that go?”

 

“Obviously, I made it back in one piece.”

 

Louis is a little taken aback by the sharpness of his tone, however completely unsurprised by Harry taking offense. He hates not being able to see anything even in daylight. He has a cane, but loathes having to use it when he goes out because he thinks people gawk at him. He feels that way about using most of his adaptive tools and technology in front of other people, a fear that is of course completely unfounded. “Well, I am glad that you made it back alright, but I actually meant how did it go with your meeting,” Louis clarifies.

 

Harry catches onto the fact that he snapped at Louis for nothing and his face immediately displays his remorse. “I’m sorry.”

 

“It’s okay.” Louis has been letting him off easy with things like that. For the past few months, Harry’s been uncharacteristically rude. Sometimes with Louis, other times with people like their friends, or even his own family. No one holds it against him of course. This is all incredibly frustrating for Harry. Louis gets it, he just doesn’t know how much longer he can put up with this perpetually grumpy version of his boyfriend before he has to set him straight and remind him that none of them are to blame for this happening. “So, your meeting… did it go well?” Louis tries again.

 

“Yeah, it did,” he says in a much nicer tone. “I closed on two sales. Thanks for asking.”

 

“You’re welcome. And that’s amazing, Haz. Congratulations. Which two?”

 

“The sunrise one and the one of the skyline,” he says with pride.

 

“Damn it. _I_ wanted the skyline one,” Louis complains just like he always does when Harry sells a piece because he loves all of Harry’s paintings but is too poor to afford them all. He gets the pleasure of viewing them in their own home for a short while once Harry’s finished painting them, but he’s still insanely jealous of the people who get to keep them forever.

 

“You can’t have them _all_ , babe,” Harry chuckles. He has given Louis several paintings throughout their relationship. All of which are currently adorning the walls surrounding them again since Louis moved in.

 

“I know,” Louis grumbles, “But, that’s why you should paint another one. An even better one that’s _specifically_ for me,” he smirks.

 

It’s as if his words are cold water with the way Harry shrinks back into himself.

 

“Yeah. That’ll probably never happen. I can’t even see the details of my own hand in front of my face let alone an entire skyline.”

 

Louis briefly closes his eyes, thankful that Harry can’t _see_ him getting frustrated.

 

He cups Harry’s face in one hand once he’s taken a deep, calming breath.

 

“Haz, you know you can still paint. You just don’t want to.” When they first started dating Harry showed him several paintings by people with severe visual impairments. There’s a particularly extraordinary piece hanging in this very flat that was created by a man who’s never seen a thing in his entire life. After seeing that, Louis did some digging and found out that the man had also written a book about his life available in braille. He gave it to Harry for his birthday last year, though he’s yet to actually read it.

 

“Painting is the one thing I was actually good at, Louis. I don’t want to make it even harder to let go of by pretending people will want to buy something I had to use my fingers for.” Harry’s obviously in a touchy mood right now, so Louis decides to concede because there’s no talking to him when he gets this way. “Where are you going?” he asks when Louis kisses his forehead before standing to collect the bag of food he dropped in his haste to be with Harry when he got home.

 

“I picked up some groceries. I’m going to go cook something to eat that we’ll probably have to use our fingers for. Hope it’ll be good enough for you.”

 

*

 

Harry shuffles into the kitchen where Louis is sitting at the table working while eating the rest of the homemade pizza he made for dinner. He watches Harry expertly move to where he is and take a seat in front of him. He wonders how Harry even knew which seat Louis was in then realizes he used his supersonic ears to hear the lead of Louis’ pencil skating over his blueprints. He probably heard him chewing as well.

 

“Hey,” he says with a small grin that breaks Louis’ resolve immediately. He already completely accepts Harry’s apology and he hasn’t even given it yet.

 

“Hi.”

 

“What you working on?”

 

“Work stuff. Niall and I have to meet with a client tomorrow so I’m preparing for that.”

 

“I bet you’re doing a great job. Wish I could see it,” Harry says. He squeezes his eyes shut like his head hurts, but then he’s sighing out of guilt rather than pain. “Louis, I’m sorry for acting like that earlier. You were only trying to encourage me and be there for me and I was just- I was a prick.”

 

He was.

 

“You were, but only a little bit of one. A _miniature_ prick, if you will,” Louis jokes. He abandons his pencil and his food to go take a seat on Harry’s lap, loving the way Harry’s hands instinctively wrap around his middle. “I’m sorry too, Haz. I knew you were frustrated and I still wanted to have the last word. We were being miniature pricks to each other.”

 

Louis leans in to connect their mouths but just when he does, Harry turns away, his face still just as troubled as before.

 

“What?” Louis frowns. “What’s wrong?” They had a little spat, they both apologized so that should be the end of it. There should be kissing happening like, ten seconds ago.

 

“Louis,” Harry begins quietly. “You don’t deserve this; someone snapping at you all the time, making your life harder than it has to be...”

 

Louis stopped listening before Harry even finished saying his name. They have this conversation almost every day.

 

“I think I know what I deserve and who I want to be with. If I thought for even a second that we weren’t meant to be, I’d pack up my shit and leave, but that’s not the case. I’m meant to be right here. With you. Whether you think so or not.”

 

Harry’s gaze wavers as he tries to look where he assumes Louis’ eyes are. Harry rests his forehead against Louis’ arm after a while and sighs like he can feel the weight of the whole world pressing in on him. When he sits up his face is full of anguish; the same tortured expression that’s been etched onto it for the past three months that screams, ‘ _Just leave me already. I’m not worth it_.’

 

Louis connects their mouths before Harry can say anything else and holds Harry’s face in his hands so he that all he feels is Louis and all the love he has for him, even on days like this.

 

*

 

It’s been a little over four months of Harry’s vision pretty much being nonexistent when he and Louis have their worst fight yet. Louis tries to have patience. Everybody does because they know this isn’t easy for Harry. Even though he knew it would happen eventually, Harry’s life is changing. He has RP, there isn’t a cure for it, and that must be hard to come to terms with, but the whole _‘life’s unfair’_ , angsty teenager act is getting old and Louis can only take so much before he reaches his limit.

 

They’re supposed to be celebrating Niall’s birthday on the late afternoon that Louis reaches his threshold for Harry’s bullshit.

 

Niall has been planning this dinner and party for weeks and similarly, he and Harry have been talking about attending it for weeks, but now that the event is here, Harry all of a sudden doesn’t want to go and nothing Louis says or does is able to change his mind.

 

“You’re seriously not coming to your _best friend’s_ birthday? Not even to the dinner beforehand?” Silence. “Harry, he’s expecting you to be there. You promised.” Louis turns to see Harry sip a bit of tea from his mug. He gently places it back down on the table in front of him before answering.

 

“I told you I’m tired. I don’t want to go.”

 

“Haz, you just woke up from a nap like two hours ago. You can’t be that tired.” Louis knows he isn’t tired at all. He woke up this morning with a chip on his shoulder the size of the fucking moon and now he’s just being ridiculous about everything.

 

His boyfriend shrugs like he’s unbothered by the accusation. “So, I’m a liar, then. Even more of a reason for you to go without me,” he bites back. “Just tell Niall that I’m sorry and I’ll try to make it up to him. He’ll understand.”

 

Go fuck yourself is the phrase Louis immediately thinks of but he stamps down on it. “Fine, then. Don’t go,” Louis says. “But I’m not telling Niall anything except the fucking truth which is that you’d rather stay home and pout than keep your promise.”

 

Louis glances over at Harry where he’s still sitting at the table, just waiting for whatever quick reply he’s going to dish out. When it finally comes, Louis feels like screaming until his lungs bleed.

 

“No one’s forcing you to be here with me, Louis. I love you more than you even know, but if you want to walk I won’t blame you.”

 

And that’s it.

 

Harry gasps aloud with wide, searching eyes when Louis’ mug shatters after its quick descent into the bottom of the sink. He doesn’t even spare a glance at Harry as he turns to listen to his angry footsteps when he storms out of the kitchen. He shoves his feet into the first pair of shoes he comes to when he reaches the door. He doesn’t even know if they’re his shoes or not as he grabs his phone, wallet, and his keys from the hook and then leaves without another word.

 

Hot tears rush down his cheeks as soon as he hits the street. His chest feeling so tight that he can hardly even breathe.

 

He doesn’t know why he let Harry get to him like that. He’s been trying to push Louis away for months now, but he’s never actually succeeded in doing it. Louis’ never been so fed up with him that for a split second he actually contemplated throwing away the best thing that’s ever happened to him. The most important person in his life.

 

He just needed a minute to calm down, he realizes once the tight feeling in his chest starts to ebb; a few moments without Harry provoking him so he’ll get angry despite the fact that Louis loves him more than anybody else in this world. Even when he’s being an annoying selfish prick on a day like today, Louis loves him. He just wishes Harry would accept that.

 

His feet carry him down various streets, his tears subsiding now as well that he’s able to sift through his thoughts and separate his emotions into what Harry tried to make him feel and what he actually does.

 

A few random turns lands him on a random street dotted with half a dozen little shops that Louis’ never seen before. A small cafe, several places to buy new clothes that Louis makes a mental note to check into some other day, however it’s the window of the jewelry shop at the very end of the street that catches his eye. Louis stands there looking in at the display with everything from bracelets to earrings but it’s a single flash of deep green in the center that Louis can’t look away from.

 

Louis feels along the pocket of his jeans where his wallet rests, feeling it practically burning a hole into his thigh as he stares at the little ring with three beautiful emeralds laid into its silver band.

 

Louis tells himself to walk away.

 

He just stormed out of their flat. He broke a fucking mug and he wants to wring Harry’s pretty little neck more days than not and this ring isn’t going to fix anything.

 

He should just leave and forget that he ever saw it; forget that he just smiled as he imagined putting it on Harry’s finger to show him once and for all that the two of them are forever, but he can’t. He can’t just walk away from this ring. Not when he knows the very person it was meant for. Even if that person doesn't quite believe it yet.

 

*

 

Louis hurries back home with his new purchase clenched in his fist. The person who sold him the ring looked at him like he was insane when he said he didn’t need a box or a bag to carry it in, but it’s not like it’s going to take Louis a long time to get home with how fast he's running.

 

He pushes open the door to their flat, expecting to find Harry in the kitchen still but he’s sitting on the sofa in the living room instead with a bandage on his right hand, probably from cleaning up Louis’ mess in the sink. He’s half dressed in the outfit that he asked Louis to pick out for him yesterday with one boot on his foot and the other one still untied and resting in his hand.

 

“Lou, I didn’t mean what I said. I- You were right,” he says in his direction as soon as he hears the door open. “I _am_ being selfish by not showing up tonight and I was being awful to you and I’m sorry.”

 

The apology is nice to hear, but Louis is completely unconcerned with it right now. His brain unable to focus on anything other than the ring still hidden in his hand.

 

He takes a deep breath before crossing the room to stand in front of Harry whose brow furrows because Louis still hasn’t said a word. He wonders if Harry can hear how fast his heart is beating right this moment. He honestly wouldn’t be surprised.

 

“Babe? I said I was sorry,” he tries again, sounding a bit more desperate this time. “I know you’re mad at me, Louis. I get it- I just-”

 

“You’re right. I am mad at you,” Louis cuts in. Harry immediately stops talking, eyes aimed down at his knees like he knows this is about to get way worse before it gets better.

 

“I left here angrier than I’ve ever been with you, but- but I don’t care,” he whispers as he sits down.

 

Harry looks surprised to feel Louis voluntarily sitting this close to him. His face changes to display a look of confusion when Louis carefully pulls his left hand into his lap and holds it there with his own hands trembling around it. Harry’s eyebrows knit even closer together when Louis brings his hand up to his lips and places a soft kiss along his knuckles. Here goes.

 

“Haz, I don’t care if you think I don’t deserve you, because I know for a fact that I do. You think marrying me would trap me into a life that I don’t want and that’s bullshit because all I want is to spend the rest of my life with you. I _want_ to be trapped. I’m actually looking forward to it. I don’t want any other choices or any other fucking options because none of them give me you.” He carefully slides the ring onto Harry’s finger, his hand flinching and his breath catching a bit at the unexpected gesture. “Harry, I’m not going anywhere. You can’t get rid of me by telling me to leave all the time because I’m just as stubborn as you are and I’ll just end up putting a ring on your finger instead,” he says with a nervous chuckle to himself. He can’t believe he’s actually doing this. “I refuse to spend my life waking up next to anybody else besides you. And I’m sorry to tell you, but you’re _not_ going to have a normal life. You’re going to have an extraordinary one whether it’s dim and blurry, or even if you can’t see anything at all. I love you and I’m going to be here for you every single day, love, _especially_ on the bad ones.”

 

Harry’s eyes are wet and his lips are slack with shock when Louis kisses them. Louis’ heart is absolutely hammering in his chest because he can’t believe he really just fucking did that. Harry looks like he can’t believe it either when Louis slowly pulls away from him, his lips still slightly parted like he has no idea how to formulate words anymore.

 

Louis glances down at the new ring on Harry’s finger that fits like it was made for him. His untied boot is now lying on the ground at their feet. Harry must’ve dropped it when he realized what was happening.

 

The sight of Harry essentially half dressed reminds Louis that he needs to start getting ready for Niall’s party too since apparently Harry’s changed his mind about going.

 

“Well,” Louis breaks the long silence, his fingers drumming against his own thigh because Harry still hasn’t said anything, but he hasn’t taken the ring off either so Louis assumes they must be okay. “I’m going to go take a shower and get dressed.”

 

He moves to stand, but before he can go anywhere Harry reaches out to stop him, his fingers quickly feeling out the location of Louis’ lips before he leans in to kiss them. He still doesn’t say anything once he lets Louis go, just lightly squeezes the back of his neck with misty eyes that make Louis’ start to burn with tears as well. He loves his boyfriend so much; his _fiancé_ now as of about two minutes ago.

 

He has to clear his throat before speaking to make sure it doesn’t waver. “I’ll be quick and then we can go, okay? If you still want to, that is,” he backtracks because, yes, Harry’s dressed for dinner, but an hour ago he had been adamant about not stepping a foot outside of this flat.

 

“I do. I want to,” Harry nods with a strange amount of emotion coating his voice. Louis isn’t sure if his answer is in reference to Niall’s party or his spontaneous proposal that he didn’t even give Harry the option of turning down because he never really _asked_ Harry to marry him; he bloody well told him that he was going to and that he’s going to like it. Louis definitely gives himself points for originality there.

 

“Alright. Great, love. That’s really great,” Louis smiles, taking it as an answer to both.

 

It’s a strange proposal story for sure. It didn’t go at all the way he envisioned and it’s unlike any other that he’s ever heard of, but it’s _theirs_ so that automatically makes it the best.

 

*

 

Niall is already drunk by the time they arrive at his birthday dinner. He nearly crashes into them as he welcomes them in, holding onto Harry the longest, gushing about how much he loves him and has missed having him around lately.

 

“ _Woah_ ,” Niall says, his hazy gaze fixed on the shiny new piece of jewelry he’s just noticed glinting on Harry’s finger. Louis can’t help but feel pride bloom through his chest. “I know it’s been a while, but when the hell did you get this thing? It’s amazing.” He lifts Harry’s hand up to his face without permission, gawking at the ring like he’s never seen one before.

 

Harry’s cheeks flush pink as everyone quiets and turns in their direction. Louis is so glad that Harry can’t see them gawking when he answers with, “Um…I just got it today. Like, an hour ago actually. When Louis and I kind of got engaged?”

 

Niall’s jaw drops along with everyone else’s.

 

“Wait a minute. You two just got engaged? On my _birthday_?”

 

Louis gives a sheepish grin. It’s not like he _planned_ on proposing to Harry today. It just sort of happened.

 

He’s in the middle of worrying about whether or not Niall is pissed at them for stealing the spotlight, but then his eardrums nearly burst with, “Oh my God, _finally_!” He guesses Niall isn’t too torn up about it then. “This is the best fucking birthday gift ever! Congratulations!” He pulls them both into another round of hugs and this time and even a few kisses before dragging them over to the rest of his guests, presenting them as a pair like some drunken version of a show-and-tell. “These are my best mates and they’re finally getting married!!’ he beams.

 

Several people point out to Niall that literally everyone present knows who Louis and Harry are, but they congratulate them with just as much enthusiasm as Niall even though they’re nowhere near as tipsy.

 

They are showered with blessings and well wishes until Louis’ cheeks hurt from smiling so much.

 

He glances over at Harry once they’re finally able to sit down, noticing a large grin on his fiancés’ face that has been absent for so long. _Too_ long, really.

 

Harry looks happy for the first time in what feels like forever, and whether or not their engagement was extravagant, flashy, simple, or even planned, Louis is so, so glad that it happened. They needed this.


	3. Chapter 3

***

Harry filters in and out of consciousness for a lot longer than he realized when he finally wakes up for good and knows the sun is already high in the sky without even having to look out the window. He has enough light perception to recognize when the sun is out or the lights are on in a room. That, and it’s much warmer than it was late last night when he and Louis stumbled into bed together, pleasantly drunk and laughing about absolutely nothing.

 

It had felt like being transported back to the night they first met except Harry wasn’t equal parts thrilled and terrified when he kissed Louis good night. He could never be afraid of someone who feels so much like home.

 

He runs the pad of his index finger over the ring on his left hand, grinning like an idiot at the delightfully foreign sensation of having the cool metal against his skin. He traces over each indention and groove of it as he’s been doing since Louis gave it to him yesterday. It’s a ring that he’s never even laid eyes on, but knows without a doubt that it’s the most beautiful piece of jewelry in the world. There are three gems along the band; emeralds according to Louis and everyone who gushed over it last night. Apparently, they match Harry’s eyes, which probably explains why people kept teasing Louis for blushing every time someone pointed it out. He’s always loved Harry’s eyes. He claims they’re his favorite.

 

Louis takes a deep, even breath next to him and quietly shifts around in his sleep to find a new position. Harry carefully reaches out toward him until his fingers brush against the skin of his bare chest, soft and much warmer than usual from the bright sunshine that must be pouring into the room.

 

Gently, Harry runs his hands over the familiar curves and lines of his body, mapping him out so well that he can imagine exactly the way his arm is curled under his head and knows that the two freckles below his left hipbone are exposed just above his boxer-briefs.

 

He can’t see it, but he just knows that Louis’ mouth is slack and probably hanging open from the soft snores falling out of it.

 

Curiosity gets the better of him after a while so he traces the shape of Louis’ mouth, grinning in silent victory because he was right. Sometimes it’s like he’s been with Louis for a hundred years from how well he knows him. If he concentrates hard enough, it’s as if his eyes are really seeing the vision lying next to him; Louis curled up with his wild mess of hair that’s probably sticking up in a dozen different places. Harry runs his fingers through it simply because he can’t help himself, enjoying how soft and silky it is as it slips between his thumb and index finger.

 

He doesn’t realize that Louis has stirred until he hears his deep breaths begin to quiet. Harry pulls his hand away from him, wincing because he hadn’t meant to wake him up. He already has his apology ready when Louis speaks first.

 

“Why’d you stop?” he complains, probably frowning as well because he immediately kicks out of their blanket like he’s boiling under it.

 

Harry chuckles at the displeasure in his voice, heavy and extra gravelly from such an uncharacteristically long sleep for the both of them. It must be at least noon if not later.

 

“How do you feel, love?” Harry asks, knowing Louis was hitting the alcohol pretty hard last night in celebration of Niall becoming more and more ancient and of them announcing their official plan to permanently be up each other’s arses for all of eternity.

 

“M’ alright,” he answers in the middle of a big yawn. “Though, I’d probably feel better if you were still petting me.” Harry can just hear the smirk in his sleepy voice. The mattress dips beneath him as Louis shuffles closer despite the warmth of the room. He nuzzles his cheek against Harry’s shoulder and sighs when Harry resumes scratching his nails through his scalp. “That feels _amazing_ ,” he drawls.

 

He smells so good. So familiar and sweet that Harry wants to bury his nose into his hair to better breathe him in. Louis always says he thinks things like that because he has super power senses, which isn’t at all the case. Harry disagrees because Louis and his scent and his voice and just _him_ would draw Harry in regardless of one of his senses being weakened. To him, _Louis_ is the one with all the super powers.

 

Harry curls his free arm around him, still hardly believing after all this time that Louis is real. He loves Louis so much that his heart races just thinking about it. He had always considered their time together to be temporary, because in his eyes there was no way someone as amazing as Louis would want to stay with him once he realized how hard things were going to get. He never imagined that Louis and all of his love were things he’d get to keep, but according to Louis and his… _untraditional_ proposal, they’re going to be together forever. He’s _choosing_ to be with Harry for the rest of his life, even on days like yesterday when he was being a complete and utter arse. The thought is so comforting that Harry can hardly keep himself grounded from his body and heart threating to float right up to the sky.

 

He moves until he’s lying half on top of Louis with their legs in a tangled mess on top of the sheets that Louis kicked to the foot of the bed. He uses the very tips of his fingers, trailing them from Louis’ stomach all the way up to his chest and neck until he brushes over the soft flesh of his lips. He remembers how scared he had been the first time he ever did this in the back of some dark cab years ago. He didn’t want Louis to think he was weird because he couldn’t just lean in and kiss him like a normal person would. He was even more of a mess the first time they ever had sex, hoping Louis wouldn’t bolt once he realized what he was getting himself into. He had prayed to every God imaginable before kissing him for the first time, hoping he wouldn’t somehow fuck it up, and he didn’t of course. Louis melted and sank into him just like he’s doing right now as Harry presses their mouths together, their lips as perfect of a fit as they have been since day one.

 

A sigh of contentment leaves Louis when Harry’s hands resume their task of caressing every inch of skin available to him. The valley formed by his collar bones. The soft dip of Louis’ waist that Harry can never seem to stop marking up once him and his mouth have started.

 

His palms slide around to squeeze his bum, which Harry hasn’t had the pleasure of actually _seeing_ in months, but just the feel of it in his hands is enough to get his blood pumping. His grasp closes around each of Louis’ thighs next, hoisting one of his legs up and around his waist so he can comfortably lie between them.

 

Harry had been so focused on seeing with his hands that he hadn’t even noticed the effect his touch has been having on his fiancé. The man who gasps aloud and shivers like his blood just ran cold when Harry grinds their hips together.

 

“I love you so much.”

 

Harry says it right against his ear, letting his lips graze the shell of it so there’s no mistaking whether or not it was audible. He places a palm over Louis’ heart enjoying the rapid thumps he receives in return like it’s about to beat right out of his chest.

 

“I- I love you too. I can’t wait to wake up next to you every day. Just to be with you. Just like this,” he says with his breath caught in his throat.

 

Heat pools in Harry’s stomach from his words. They’re the same ones Louis’ been saying for years, but Harry never really had faith in them before. Not like he will from now on. The words have new meaning since Louis promised him forever. It has nearly taken Harry that long to trust in him, but that’s okay because they’re here now. That’s all that matters.

 

“Yes, by the way,” Harry says as he quickly strips Louis of his underwear and sends them sailing across the room so they’re out of the way. “I didn’t say it yesterday, but I meant to.” He wanted to scream his answer as soon as he realized what was happening, but he was too stunned to do so. For the first time in his life, he’d been left speechless.  

 

He shifts down Louis’ body and pushes Louis’ legs apart. He can’t see anything when he sinks his mouth down around him so far that Louis digs his heels and fists into the mattress beneath him.

 

“Good?” he asks around his mouthful when he eases up a bit to let himself breathe. Clearly, he’s doing a fine job with nothing but his mouth and the subtle flicks of his tongue from the moan Louis makes up near the pillows.

 

“ _Yes. Fuck_ ,” he gasps when Harry sinks back down. “God, I’d marry you right now if I could.”

 

It wasn’t very long ago that the thought of marriage made Harry’s heart ache with sadness, but now that he’s accepted that he’s stuck with Louis for life, the idea of marriage has him dreaming and dreaming _big_. He can’t wait to for Louis to be his husband.

 

Harry pulls off in the middle of Louis swearing and moaning about how he wishes he were ordained so they could say ‘I do’ right this very second with Harry’s mouth around his dick. Harry slides down the bed a bit further to run the flat of his tongue over his opening and then dip the tip of it inside. Louis doesn’t talk anymore about their future wedding day after he cries out at the feeling and curls in on himself in a way that makes Harry long to be able to see his face twisted up in pleasure. The way Louis reaches down to squeeze Harry’s left hand in his lets him know that although Louis has lost the ability to make words at the moment, they aren’t finished with this conversation.

 

*

 

Harry narrowly misses running into a street bench on his way back to his flat, but the tip of his cane bounces and reverberates off the hard metal just in time to warn him that he’s about to trip and embarrass himself pretty badly. He moves a bit to the right to avoid the unseen obstacle and then continues on his way with his paper bag held protectively in his other arm.

 

He makes it back to his building a few minutes later, sighing when he’s able to get off the streets because they were full of people today and large crowds always make him a bit anxious when he’s out by himself. He really should’ve gone out earlier to beat the late afternoon rush, but he’d been so caught up with his book all morning that he only put it down once the great idea struck him to surprise Louis with dinner.

 

For the past four months, Louis has done the majority of the cooking, and well, everything else for them as well. Not because Harry couldn’t do it himself; because he just didn’t want to. He hasn’t felt like doing a lot of things lately.

 

He’s been so scared and angry these past few months that he has no idea how Louis and everyone else has put up with him being ridiculous for so long. He pushed Louis away at every chance he got and then once Louis finally reached his breaking point he didn’t even leave like Harry was so certain he was going to when he stormed out on him, but that’s been weeks ago now. It’s been weeks since Louis rushed back home to him and offered Harry more than he ever imagined he could have with another person. He offered Harry a life together. One that Harry is very much ready to start living again, and this time without hesitation or fear.

 

Once inside their flat, Harry places his cane by the door, glad to be rid of it now that he’s at home and in familiar territory where it’s no longer needed. He walks to the kitchen with ease and places his bag down on the counter next to the sink, not even hesitating for a moment before getting to work emptying it so he can begin.

 

Louis will be home in a little over an hour, so he needs to work fast. He used to be able to whip up a meal in no time when he could still see, but he’s trying not to think of things that way; in terms of before his sight loss and after. That’s the sort of thinking that caused him to be so bitter and angry about this situation in the first place; something of which he has no control over. It’s true that his eyes aren’t really much help to him anymore, but that doesn’t mean he can’t still do things on his own. It just means he has to find new ways to accomplish all the things he loves doing. Cooking being one of the many tasks that simply needs a few small adjustments for him to succeed in doing it.

 

He locates an oven dish and the tomato sauce for the chicken he hopes has thawed enough over the past few hours for him to use. He runs his fingers along the alphabetized braille labels of the different spices and ingredients in the cabinet over the sink. Finding the ones that he needs takes a lot longer than when he could just read them at a glance, but thanks to his mother spending all that time organizing his kitchen years ago, it’s not impossible.

 

The numbers on the oven knob are raised so he can feel which temperature he’s setting and he carefully places the oven dish inside with his oven mitts once the oven is hot enough. He lets the meat cook for a few minutes before getting to work boiling the water for the ‘ _cute’_ pasta that his fiancé loves so much and that Harry just braved rush hour for. They’re really just bowtie noodles, but Louis absolutely refuses to call them that, so cute pasta it is.

 

He finds the largest pot that he owns and places it beneath the faucet. He has to listen for the sound of the water becoming more shallow as it reaches the top of the pot. He has a level indicator that beeps to let him know when things are nearly full as well, but today he doesn’t need it. He’s relying on his super powers as Louis would say.

 

Next he places the pot on the stove before turning it on so he doesn’t burn himself doing it the other way around. He pours the pasta in once he hears the water start to boil and then sets a timer so it doesn’t overcook since he can’t really test it without running the risk of hurting himself.

 

He takes a seat at the kitchen table with his book to wait out the food once it’s all set into motion. He used to cook and do half a dozen other things at the same time, but now he tries to stay close to the kitchen in case something goes wrong or starts to burn.

 

Once the timer dings, the chicken is done and the pasta is ready to be drained and added to it. He grabs two plates from the cabinet along with two wine glasses that they only break out for special occasions. This isn’t an official date night or anything, but it does feel special. He just wanted to do something nice for Louis for a change. Something that makes himself feel worthy of someone as amazing as him because lately Harry has been so miserable to be around. He isn’t normally that type of person and he’s so glad that Louis reminded him of that fact, so, tonight is all for him.

 

The voice feature on his phone reports the time to him when he asks and he feels that familiar flutter of excitement in his stomach because Louis should be walking through the door at any minute.

 

He hears the creak of it swinging open just as Harry is setting their dinner places and sitting down the bottle of wine he picked up while shopping.

 

“Babe?” Louis calls as his keys loudly land on the entryway table instead of the hook; a sign that he’s in too much of a rush to see him today to care about where things are _supposed_ to go.

 

“Kitchen!” Harry yells back, breathing a sigh of relief because thankfully he finished everything on time.

 

He hears Louis’ footsteps approaching and then the sound of a small gasp that makes Harry smile because he can just imagine Louis’ face. “What’s all this?” he asks.

 

He steps closer and wraps his arms around Harry’s waist, his nose buried in the crook of Harry’s neck to breathe him in like he does every day when he gets home.

 

“It’s nothing. I just wanted to do a little cooking for you,” he whispers as he hugs Louis back.

 

“Aww, Haz. You didn’t have to do that,” he feels Louis grinning against him. He gets a quick kiss to the cheek and then hears another small gasp. “You did the chicken I like with the cute pasta?”

 

Harry doesn’t even bother correcting Louis since he nearly called it cute pasta himself when he asked for assistance finding it at the store. He simply nods instead, chuckling as he tightens his grip around Louis’ hips once he practically melds their bodies together just to connect their lips. His voice is full of so much appreciation and gratitude when he pulls back, and all because Harry made up his mind to stop pouting long enough to boil some dumb pasta.

 

“Thank you so much, Haz. I don’t know what to say.”

 

“It’s was nothing, love. You’re welcome. It’s the least I could do.”

 

He finds Louis’ chin and holds him still as he leans in one more time. Louis doesn’t move an inch except to answer his kiss with soft touches and a content sigh before they take their seats across from each other at the table.

 

Harry listens as Louis pours them some wine. The speed with which Louis’ fork starts scraping against his bowl makes Harry smile. It only grows larger when Louis moans about how good everything tastes. He just loves that Louis is happy right now and that him and his simple efforts are the cause of it. He should’ve been doing things like this all along.

 

“Still reading your book, I see,” Louis comments after he’s done asking Harry about his day and telling him all about his day at work with Niall.

 

Harry rolls his eyes at himself because he forgot that he left the book on the table in his haste to get everything ready.

 

“Yeah, I was reading while I was cooking. I meant to put it in the living room so it wouldn’t be in the way.”

 

“It’s not in the way,” Louis assures him as his fork lands inside of his empty bowl. “So, how is it? Is it any good?”

 

“Yeah, it is. I really like it. I don’t know. It’s kind of different than I thought it’d be,” he admits. Louis got him that book for his birthday two years ago. At the time, Harry had no interest in reading about the life of a blind artist even though that’s exactly the kind of life he’s been heading towards himself. Obviously, lots of things have changed since then. There are now more similarities between himself and this man than differences, so the book has become a sort of comfort to him. A small reminder each day that there are other people out there who are just like him who are doing amazing things.

 

“Will you read some of it to me later?” Louis asks. Harry hears him open the book, it’s thick pages swishing as Louis flips through it.

 

Louis has always enjoyed listening to Harry read just as much as Harry loves listening to Louis narrate films and tv shows for him when necessary. He used to be really shy about reading braille in front of other people, especially when he was younger and just beginning to learn, but Louis has always been so impressed by it. Even back when they first met and he quietly admitted to Harry that he’d never even seen a book written in braille before let alone watched someone read it. Louis had watched his fingers expertly sliding over the pages that day in awe. He doesn’t know how, but Louis always manages to make even the simplest things about him feel remarkable.

 

“Yeah, babe. Of course,” Harry agrees. “I’d love to.”

 

After dinner, Harry settles down on the living room floor with his book in his lap while Louis curls up on the sofa behind him.

 

“Alright. I’m ready,” he announces as he stuffs one of the pillows under his head. “Read me a story.”

 

“Okay, even though technically it’s an autobiography,” Harry laughs as he turns to a part he read earlier today and really liked.

 

He feels Louis’ fingers begin to gently card through his hair when he clears his throat. Harry lets his eyes slide closed with a sigh of contentment when he begins. The artist talks about people trying to explain colors to him since he was a child but even though he’s never seen a color in his life, he’s sure that only two of them truly matter. He says that if God saw fit to cover the whole sky in blue and blanket the entire earth with green, then those two colors alone make up the world and everything else in it must pale in comparison. He’s told that there are times when the two collide like when water washes over a field of grass or a drop of rain slips over the leaves of a tree and that moments in which the two meet must be miraculous to behold. If he could use his eyes to see only one great thing in this life then he’d choose one of those moments because nothing else in the world could hope to be as beautiful.

 

Harry closes the book after a few pages, leaning his head further back against the sofa so Louis can reach more of his hair.

 

“Very smart man,” Louis says after a pause so long that Harry nearly dozes off from how gently Louis’ nails are scratching along his scalp.

 

“Hmm?” Harry opens his eyes and shifts so that his cheek rests against the cushions. He can’t see Louis any more than he could when he was turned around, but at least he knows he’s looking in Louis’ direction now. “What are you talking about?”

 

“The artist. I agree with him completely. With what he said about blue and green. It _is_ miraculous when they meet. I should know,” he whispers. Harry can hear the grin in his voice and he knows the feeling, able to feel the way Louis is looking into his eyes right at this very moment. Harry had thought the same thing today when he first read this section. He’s so lucky to have gotten to know color for over half of his lifetime; even luckier because the rich blue of Louis’ eyes will always be one of his favorite memories of it.   

 

“Yeah, babe. You’re right. He is a very smart man.”

 

*

 

 

Each day Harry wakes up next to Louis and paints a mental picture inside of his head of how beautiful he looks sleeping beside him using nothing but his hands. Louis becomes a work of art in his mind as his fingers draw him out like a sketch and fill him in so well that Harry is able to imagine every detail of him. He’s become so talented at doing this in fact that one morning Harry swears that he’s gazing right at Louis lying on the pillow next to him. It takes Harry a few seconds of hard blinking to realize that his imagination isn’t playing tricks on him and that Louis really is taking form right before his eyes along with the rest of the room.

 

“Lou. Wake up,” he whispers. He gently traces his thumb over Louis’ cheekbone to pull him from sleep, not wanting to startle him awake due to his excitement.

 

His blue eyes flutter open after a few seconds and Harry wastes no time sliding closer to lean in and kiss him like he hasn’t gotten the opportunity to do so in years.

 

It feels so good and freeing to not have to feel over Louis’ lips in order to taste them that his heart picks up speed just from the act of it. Louis blushes and grins into his pillow from such an enthusiastic greeting but then he faces Harry again and gasps aloud realizing that Harry’s eyes haven’t once wavered or moved away from his own, truly meeting Louis’ gaze for the first time in nearly half a year.

 

“Holy shit,” he beams, and God, Harry has missed seeing him do that. “You’re _looking_ at me, aren’t you?”

 

Harry doesn’t answer his question, taking advantage of the fact that Louis’ lips and his gorgeous smile are visible right there in front of him when he eagerly connects their mouths again with so much energy that Louis giggles into it.

 

“God, I’ve missed you so much,” Harry sighs with a tight throat that’s only getting the tighter the longer Louis tearfully grins over at him when he squeezes Harry’s hand with, ‘ _I’ve been right here the whole time, babe. You just couldn’t see me_.’

 

 

*

 

Having his sight back is like this huge, liberating gift being placed right in his hands. It’s all he used to dream about during those first few months his RP took a turn for the worst.

 

Before his quick decline, his sight was okay for the most part. Things appeared dim and slightly blurry on most days, but visible. Now that so much time has passed without Harry seeing anything at all, the amount of sight he’s regained is significantly lessened. All of the specialists say that his reprieve will most likely be a very brief one, and Harry knows that. Every scan of his eyes shows just how brittle and withered his retina has become over time so he knows this gift isn’t going to last long, but he can’t help but to be a little excited because at least this time he gets the chance to give his sight a proper sendoff; an opportunity that most people like him never receive.

 

Louis calls out of work a lot just to stay home and be with him; taking walks through the city together, lying down in the middle of the cold park to watch the afternoon sky morph into evening, or sometimes even just dragging their blanket from the bed to Harry’s art room to curl up on the floor and watch him paint for hours at a time. Every day that Harry can experience life through sight feels like a blessing and the two of them try their best to appreciate every second of it.

 

One day Harry gets a call from his mother asking if he’d like to come visit for a few hours and Harry doesn’t even hesitate before saying yes, gladly leaving his cane right were it’s leaning against the entryway table.

 

He takes the train, excited energy running through him because the last time he was home he couldn’t see anything. This time, his eyes take in _everything_ ; the big, old house he grew up in all decorated for Christmas along with the tall evergreens outside that stretch up towards the heavens just like he remembers. The two of them sit down to tea out on the front porch even though it’s December. It’s fucking freezing out, but the chill is worth it to Harry, because even a view of frozen ground and stiff brown leaves are something to be celebrated.

 

“Louis and I should come visit. We should do it soon,” Harry suggests, because there’s nothing he enjoys more than showing Louis around his childhood home even though he’s been here a dozen times by now.

 

“You two should. Your father and I would love that. We’ve missed you,” his mother smiles before taking another sip from her warm mug. Harry would love it too. He always loves being at home. He loves it even more when Louis is here with him.

 

“Maybe we could come up in a couple of weeks after the craziness of the holidays is over?”

 

They’ve got Louis’ birthday and Christmas coming up in just a few days. Trying to squeeze in a weekend trip to his parents’ house before Niall’s New Years party isn’t very realistic, but neither is expecting Harry’s sight to last much longer than that and he really wants to make the most of it before it’s gone; this time probably for good.

 

He glances over at his mother for confirmation of his brilliant plan, only for her to kindly shake her head in decline.

 

“I’m afraid not, dear. We’d love to have you, but something tells me that neither you or Louis will be very interested in visiting us around that time. I think you’ll be busy enough as it is and besides that, no one will even be here.”

 

Harry frowns into his mug at the way his mother’s eyes sparkle with mischief. It’s so eerily familiar that he’d swear it was Louis sitting there smirking at him instead. “Oh. Er- Where will everybody be? Is there something happening that week?” he asks. There’s nothing going on that Harry knows of, so whatever it is must’ve just come up.

 

The little ball of anxiety he had felt creeping up his throat dissolves and leaves his tongue feeling heavy and without a single word to say when his mother takes in his disappointed expression and then happily sighs in defeat.

 

“Well, it was _supposed_ to be a surprise for later,” she begins, beaming from ear to ear. “Louis had planned to tell you this himself, but you’re giving me that devastated, giant puppy eyes look so I know he won’t mind me telling you that the reason no one will be here after New Years is because we all have a very special wedding to attend.”

 

Harry feels his heart skip several beats as his mother smiles and nods in answer to the unspoken question in his eyes.

 

“Yes, love. _Your_ wedding,” she confirms.

 

 

Her words bounce around in his head the entire train ride home and they only grow louder and more persistent, demanding meaning and clarification because he and Louis have only been engaged for about a month. He knew that at some point this would result in the two of them walking down the aisle together. He just wasn’t aware that day was coming so soon.

 

He asks Louis about it when he gets home from work, expertly rolling into it in the middle of watching Love Actually for the hundredth time even though they both know the entire script by heart.

 

“So…January,” he comments offhandedly as he traces little patterns along Louis’ back hoping just the mention of the word will prompt him to spill about what’s going on.

 

“Hmmm, my love? What about January?” he asks, his big blue eyes innocently locked with Harry’s giving him absolutely nothing to work with.

 

“Okay,” Harry says after a thoughtful pause. “Let’s play a game. Word association. If I say, _January_ , you say…?”

 

“ _February_.”

 

Harry snorts a laugh in spite of himself and of Louis being a smart arse. “Ha. Ha,” Harry rolls his eyes, now cutting right to the chase since Louis isn’t playing along. “If I say, _random wedding that I’m only just hearing about today,_ you say…?”

 

“ _Your mum already texted and said you’d probably be fishing for information, so stop being nosey and worrying your pretty little head over things we all have completely under control._ ” Harry pinches him in the side causing Louis to yelp in surprise and then cackle where he’s lying half on top of him.

 

“ _Lou,_ ” Harry warns, trying for stern and clearly failing when Louis answers mockingly with, ‘ _Haz_ ’.

 

“Louis, come on. _Please?_ ” he whines, still smiling because now Louis is making faces at him on top of being a little shit. “Stop being annoying and just tell me what’s going on. I just want to kn-”

 

Out of nowhere, his fiancé places a hand over Harry’s mouth to stop his words. “Shh. I’m watching this. This is the good part.”

 

Harry rolls his eyes because the whole film is ‘ _the good part’_ and Louis hasn’t even been paying attention to it the entire hour they’ve been lying here, but Harry doesn’t call him out on it. He licks over Louis’ palm instead because he’s a child and it makes Louis smile.

 

The mere thought of marrying him already causes Harry’s stomach to flip and flop uncontrollably in anticipation. Knowing that it’s happening so soon only makes him a million times more anxious and excited.

 

“I’m going to figure it out, you know. Whatever it is,” Harry mumbles when Louis finally removes his hand, not even slightly bothered by Harry’s spit.

 

“You won’t, but you can try,” Louis grins before pressing their lips together.

 

*

 

Harry texts Niall later that night when he’s still unable to get anything valuable out of Louis even after a shared shower in which Louis came twice and didn’t have to lift a finger. He makes a small, innocent inquiry about his friend’s plans after New Years and receives yet another dead-end response of, ‘ _Stop trying to ruin the surprise and mind your own business. Go to sleep. Love you. X’_

Harry frowns down at his phone because the last time he checked, getting married _is_ his business.

 

Despite Niall’s subtle suggestion for him to stop asking questions, Harry keeps pushing to figure out what the hell is going on.

 

Literally every person they know seems to be in on whatever plan Louis has devised, meaning no one will tell him a damn thing.

 

They go to Louis’ house for Christmas this year since they stayed with Harry’s family last year and even amongst the Tomlinsons, Harry feels like everyone knows something that he doesn’t.

 

He stoops so low at one point that he attempts to pull bits of information out of Louis’ little sisters who usually can’t keep a secret for anything. There’s a chink in Harry’s plan though because he quickly realizes that the twins have both been handsomely paid off for their silence. He relents and ends up letting them paint his nails on the living room floor like they always do, but he pouts the whole time because somehow Louis is always ten steps ahead of him.

 

The mystery behind this whole secret wedding thing keeps Harry guessing for the entire two weeks leading up to it. He and Louis count down to the new year together back home in the privacy of Niall’s kitchen. Louis grabs his face and kisses him hard when the entire house explodes in a chorus of Happy New Year. Harry’s heart is beating double time once Louis pulls away with that familiar bright smile that Harry is so grateful to be able to see.

 

Louis’ cheeks are all pink from the champagne and he looks so incredibly happy in this moment, even with the suspiciously teary-eyed gaze he’s fixing Harry with as everyone else in the house continues to cheer about all the great possibilities that a new year brings.

 

“I can’t wait to marry you,” he whispers.

 

This time last year, a statement like that would’ve terrified Harry, and now all he can imagine is the two of them kissing and holding each other just like this when the day comes. They’ll say ‘I do,’ in a banquet hall, or a park, or some little old church that Harry doesn’t know the name or location of, and he doesn’t even care. The details are irrelevant because he’d marry Louis anywhere no matter the time or place, as long they’re together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks again for so many kind words and so much support from people reading this! And, of course, thank you to again FallingLikeThis (Zayniam) <3
> 
>  


	4. Chapter 4

The first thing Harry registers when Louis wakes him up with a kiss two days later is the slight pounding of his head directly behind his eyes. It had started the day before, but he had assumed the headache was from all the champagne he drank at Niall’s party. He realizes now that his head is probably hurting for a completely different reason.

 

He doesn’t let the inevitable bother him though, focusing in on the way Louis keeps gently trailing the tips of his fingers from Harry’s bicep all the way down to his wrists and back again.

 

Harry cracks his eyes open, breathing a quiet sigh of relief to himself just like he has done every morning for the last few weeks because by some miracle, he’s still able to see.

 

One day at a time.

 

“Morning, love. How are you feeling?” Louis is curled up next to him, expression easy as watches Harry blink himself into being more awake so that he can better see the features of his face. Harry ignores the way his head aches in the process, choosing instead to have this be a great day despite his body trying to achieve the opposite.

 

“I feel amazing. Fantastic,” Harry whispers. “How about you?”

 

He snakes his arms around Louis’ waist to pull him closer before he can answer. Louis hums and sighs into their kiss when their mouths meet, but starts pulling back before Harry can turn their simple good morning into anything more. Pity.

 

Harry brushes the rejection off and attempts to persuade Louis into just lying in bed with him by lightly scratching at his skin beneath his t-shirt.

 

“Haz. We’ve got to get up soon,” Louis chuckles in a valiant effort to ignore the obvious effect that Harry’s hands are having on him as they move a bit lower, now flirting with the waistband of his boxer-briefs.

 

“Well, we don’t _have_ to. We can be lazy for a little while longer,” he says, grinning at the peculiar way that Louis is grinning back at him.

 

Harry would happily lie here all day with him. Just like this. He tries pulling Louis into a new kiss once the moment builds between them, and his fiancé allows it, but only for a moment before he’s laughing again and pulling away.

 

“Babe, I wish we could lie here forever too, really, but it’s not exactly the best morning for that. It’s kind of our wedding day…” he quietly reveals. And _that_ definitely gets Harry’s attention.

 

His hands freeze right on the hem of Louis’ shirt where he was about ten seconds from coaxing it off his body. He quickly sits up, slightly regretting it when his head protests, but not really caring because they’re fucking getting _married._

 

“Wait! What? Really? _Today?_ ” he smiles, his heartbeat starting to pick up speed just thinking about it. “ _Where?”_ he asks as an afterthought to his original onslaught of questions.

 

Louis laughs at his new energy, his eyes all crinkled in the corners the way they do whenever he’s extremely happy. “Nice try, love, but I still can’t tell you just yet.”

 

Harry pretty much expected that. Louis and their loved ones have already come this far without letting Harry in on this. Why would they crack now?

 

“You really can’t tell me _anything,_ love? Not even a small, _tiny,_ little hint?” He bats his eyelashes, slowly walking his fingers up the inside of Louis’ thigh in an attempt to pull him over to the dark side. From the way his eyes darken, Harry would say it’s working.

 

“Nope,” Louis smirks in response a beat later, not even slightly swayed. Harry should’ve known that wasn’t going to work. “Can’t tell you anything. Just know that when we get there, the view is going to be _incredible_. Nothing short of miraculous.”

 

Miraculous? Harry feels his brow furrow, wondering why that sounds so strangely familiar. He’s still trying to find some hidden meaning in his fiancé’s words when Louis pulls him in by the back of the neck for one more quick kiss and then hops out of bed to pull out the suitcases that they just finished _unpacking_ from Christmas.

 

Harry can’t believe this is truly happening today.

 

Louis immediately begins delegating tasks like he always does whenever they need to travel somewhere by asking Harry to get started with the packing while he goes to get dressed so they can switch later on and then Louis can finish up with their bags.

 

“Yes. Packing. Okay,” Harry nods, “I can do that. But, uh…what sorts of things are we taking?”

 

He has no clue where they’re going or for how long. They could be heading for Doncaster to the little church that Louis’ grandparents got married in just as easily as they could be going to the beautiful beach that he and Louis visited their first summer together.

 

Harry grabs the two garment bags containing their suits that he’s just noticed hanging off the closet door and then heads over to their dresser and starts pulling out every pair of swim shorts they own, only for Louis to chuckle from the bathroom doorway.

 

“Unfortunately, the place we’re going is a bit too cold for all of those.”

 

And, _oh_.

 

Harry frowns, letting go of the grand beach wedding fantasy he’d just started constructing in his head. “Oh. Er- So, no sandy beach?”

 

“No sandy beach,” Louis confirms with an amused shake of his head. “You should pack for snow instead. There’s going to be _loads_ of it,” he says with a knowing smirk.

 

Harry glances out of the window at a city that hasn’t even heard the whisper of snow since winter started a few weeks ago. Instead of swimwear, he grabs all the thick socks and scarves that have been lying dormant at the bottom of their dresser and throws them into their suitcases per Louis’ _vague_ instruction, convinced at this point that Louis is probably going to try to marry him on an ice cap somewhere.

 

Harry grins to himself, because he wouldn’t even really mind it so long as he gets to be Louis’ husband at the end of them freezing their arses off.

 

*

 

Harry’s head snaps up from the passport that Louis just produced out of nowhere when he hears the overhead announcement for next flight leaving their gate. His eyes grow just as wide as they did when he realized they were turning into the airport to begin with.

 

“Wait. We’re going to _Finland_?” Everybody from Niall to his and Louis’ families turn to look at him with knowing grins because he’s the last to know and apparently his look of complete shock is just hilarious.

 

“ _Lou_ ,” Harry begins, causing his fiancé to wince when he meets his eyes with a sheepish grin of his own. It’s so bright in here that Harry can count every eyelash that Louis innocently bats at him.

 

“Yes, Harold, my one true love? Is something the matter?”

 

And just like that, Harry is immediately won over. It’s annoying how skilled Louis has become at doing that.

 

Harry fondly rolls his eyes at him, completely charmed by his fiancé of course, but still totally lost on why they’re flying out of the country when they could get married here for half the price of just _one_ of these tickets. Louis links their fingers together when he notices Harry’s distress, pulling him forward by the neck with his other hand to rest their foreheads together.  

 

“Do you trust me?” Louis asks once he pulls back enough to see him, his warm hand such a comfort where it’s still resting at the back of his neck.

 

Harry answers him without a moment of hesitation. “With my life.”

 

Louis smiles so big that his eyes crinkle up in the corners and a faint pink color tints the apples of his cheeks. “Yeah, I know, babe. I know you do. And I also know that you think this trip is crazy and that sometimes I’m possibly a _little bit_ insane-”

 

“You’re not wrong there,” Harry mumbles. This is by far the craziest thing they’ve ever done and somehow Louis’ managed to get everyone they know on board with it as well.

 

“Alright, fine. I can admit that I’m pretty insane _most_ of the time,” Louis laughs. “But, just trust me anyway?” he asks with a hopeful smile, giving Harry’s hand a tight, reassuring squeeze. “Can you do that for me, please?”

 

And, yeah, Harry thinks. If that’s all Louis is asking of him after all they’ve been through together, then he can definitely do that.

 

*

 

He startles awake a few hours later when he feels someone urgently shaking his shoulder. Harry opens his eyes, needing a moment for his eyes to fully adjust to the darkness of the cabin before he’s able to see past it to Louis’ excited smile aimed right at him.

 

Harry didn’t want one of his infamous migraines ruining this day, so he took a bit of his pain medication this morning. His head had started hurting again in the airport before they boarded the plane so he had to sneak off to take another dose, the effects of which must still be working from how long it takes him to fully wake up and register all of the excited noise going on around them.

 

“Haz! Babe, look out the window! Hurry up,” Louis urges, practically bouncing in his seat as Harry turns to do what he asked.

 

It’s way past sunset so Harry fully expects to see a big, wide view of nothing like he usually does when there’s no sunshine to help him, however, he understands exactly what all the commotion is for when his heart skips several beats at the sight of the dark blue sky painted in thick streams of smoky green light all around them.

 

The dancing lights seem to bend and move like waves, absolutely luminous in the way they glow and flood the entire cabin with color. He’s never seen anything like it in his life, and from the way things have been going with his vision, he never thought in a million years that he’d get to.

 

Like some sort of unspoken agreement between the two of them, he and Louis have been trying their best to make the most out of Harry’s returned sight. They’ve taken full advantage of the fact that for the moment, Harry is able to experience things through all of his senses. Harry had sort of guessed that Louis was rushing their wedding date for a reason. He figured his RP had a lot to do with it and that Louis would try his hardest to make their special day even more amazing for the both of them. He just didn’t expect something like this.

 

Harry has no idea how long he stares out the window with unblinking eyes and his breath caught tight in his throat. He turns back to face Louis who’s still beaming at him and who has never looked more beautiful doing so than he does right now with random streaks of emerald light caught in his hair.

 

“So? Do you still think I’m slightly crazy for doing this?” he asks with hesitant eyes like Harry may actually say yes.

 

Harry quickly shakes his head, causing Louis’ expression to soften even more when a few loose tears slip down his cheeks without permission.

 

“Aw, baby, don’t cry,” he says with his own blue eyes quickly filling with tears. “I didn’t mean to upset you. I’m sorry,” he whispers as he steadily wipes at Harry’s cheeks.

 

Harry has no idea why he’s crying. He’s currently flying over Finland in the company of everybody he loves in this world with the Northern Lights so close that Harry’s convinced he could reach out and touch them if he tried.

 

It’s overwhelming is the thing. His heart is so full that his chest almost aches from the weight of it and all he keeps thinking about is how he wants to remember this feeling forever.

 

“I love you so much,” is all he’s able to really say before the dam breaks. He fits himself into Louis’ open arms, however he just cries harder when he feels wet drops falling into his hair where Louis’ cradling him close.

 

“Shhh, it’s okay,” he promises as he rubs small circles into his back. “I love you too, Haz. So, so much.” Harry has never been more certain of anything.

 

He forces himself to take a couple of deep breaths once he sits up again, laughing a bit because both of their faces are absolutely soaked and they look ridiculous. He finds Louis’ lips with ease in the lit cabin and kisses them, hoping Louis can feel just how happy he is in this moment despite the fact that he just sobbed all over him.

 

He holds Louis’ hand in his as they both settle back into their seats. They watch the miraculous sky together and Harry commits it all to memory; every single detail along with the way his stomach flutters when he glances back at Louis to find his gaze locked on _him_ rather than the bright lights. That feeling and that look of pure, unconditional love in Louis’ eyes are just two more things that he plans to hold onto for the rest of his life.

 

*

 

It feels like he’s moving through a dream land when they’re driven to a holiday resort right after they land.

 

For the first time since Harry was a teenager, he’s able to see more than just a few inches in front of his face at night. What his eyes take in is still not one hundred percent and he’s sure he’s seeing a lot less than everybody else when they look past the trees towards the brilliant lights overhead, but he sees enough to know how amazing this place is and how lucky he is to have people who love him enough to give him all of this.

 

They’re greeted by the event coordinator, who gives them a warm welcome and begins working as soon as they arrive. Everyone is instructed to go change so the ceremony can begin on time. Harry misses Louis as soon as their lips part even though he’ll be just down the corridor and they’ll see each other again in just a little while.

 

His heart rabbits in his chest the entire time he’s layering up in his suit and fixing his hair, knowing that Louis is only a few rooms down doing the exact same thing. It only beats faster when his mother finally comes to collect him and they head outside together to a sleigh with a giant reindeer attached to the front of it.

 

“Oh my God. Does _everybody_ get to ride around in one of these?” he marvels, not sure at this point if he’s more excited about meeting this real-life reindeer or the fact that he’s about to become Louis’ husband.

 

“Yes, everyone got a sleigh ride,” she giggles as their driver pulls off into the snow. “Louis made sure of it.”

 

That’s because he’s amazing, Harry thinks. “He’s already there with everyone else, isn’t he?”

 

“Yeah, baby,” she nods with a tight squeeze to his forearm. “He’s there waiting for you.”

 

Harry smiles to himself, because those words have never sounded sweeter.

 

 

His breath falls short when they arrive at a little clearing seemingly in the middle of nowhere and Louis _is_ there waiting for him just like his mother said. He’s always beautiful. On mornings when his hair is a mess and even those mornings when Harry wakes up and can’t see him at all, but tonight? Harry has never seen someone look so radiant and so immensely happy just to be standing in the middle of the snow. They’ve been together for years now and Harry still can’t believe that he’s the reason for that bright smile and pair of eager blue eyes that have yet to look away from him.

 

“Are you ready to go marry him?” His mother hops down from the sleigh and stretches out her hand in wait. Harry hurries to follow her, feeling like he’s never been more ready for anything in his entire life.

 

There isn’t an actual aisle like Harry assumed there would be. Instead it’s just a smooth strip of snow that his mother slowly walks him down. Their friends and family are all bundled up like Eskimos, especially Louis’ little siblings who wave at them when he and his mother walk by. Harry waves back, thankful that they didn’t give in to his bribes at Christmas and allow him to ruin this incredible night that their brother put so much effort into.

 

His mother kisses his cheek and wishes him luck when she places his hand in Louis’ and leaves him there. There are lights dancing directly above them and reflecting off the white snow at their feet, but the most captivating light of all is pouring from Louis’ eyes, his face lighting up as well the moment their fingers slot together.

 

“You made it,” he grins. And God, Harry would kiss him right this second if he could.

 

“Yeah, I did. By bloody _reindeer_ at that _._ ” Harry has no idea how long they’re staying in this resort, but spending more time with the reindeer is definitely in his top five of things to do.

 

“They’re _sick_ , right?” Louis agrees. “And you know, I knew it’d be cold, but I didn’t think it’d be _this_ cold,” he admits with an exaggerated shiver. “I can’t feel my arse. It may not even be back there anymore,” he says, causing Harry to bark out a laugh that startles everyone except his fiancé who was obviously expecting it.

 

“Well, I’d reach around to check and make sure it’s still there, love, but we’re kind of in front of a lot of people.”

 

“That’s alright,” he smirks with a seductive bite to his bottom lip. “You can check later tonight.”

 

“Seriously? It is below freezing out here and my toes have probably fallen off. Flirt _after_ you’re married,” comes the chattered voice of their best man. Niall glares at the pair of them with frostbitten cheeks and a red nose to match that makes Harry sympathize. Not so much with his best friend; with the rest of their loved ones who are also probably ready to get out of the cold.

 

Louis rolls his eyes at Niall’s complaining, but relents and nods at their officiate to go ahead and begin just to shut him up. Harry doesn’t mind. The quicker they start, the quicker he gets to call Louis his husband. Louis has already had to wait for this moment way longer than he should have.

 

When it’s time for them to say vows Louis goes first causing Harry’s eyes to mist and fill with more tears that he swore to himself he wouldn’t let fall tonight. As per usual, his body doesn’t listen to a thing he wants it to do and lets several hot streams rush down his cheeks while Louis tells him and everyone around them how much he’s looking forward to spending the rest of his life with Harry by his side.

 

Harry already knew all the things that Louis said, but hearing them right now, just minutes before they’re about to say ‘I do,’ with the heavens shimmering above makes his words all the more special.

 

He leans in to press a lingering kiss to Louis’ cheek when he’s done even though he’s not sure if he’s technically allowed to do so. Their officiate announces when it’s Harry’s turn to speak and his stomach does a little lurch from nerves.

 

Technically, Harry has been writing his vows in his head since the moment he and Louis met. He just didn’t realize it at the time. He didn’t know that he had found the person he’s going to be with forever when he smiled at the beautiful boy in a band-tee who just wanted to buy one of his paintings. Harry wishes he could go back and tell that version of himself not to be so afraid because where he and Louis are going to end up a few years down the road is better than his wildest dreams.

 

“I always thought getting the opportunity to stand here like this with someone would be one of the scariest moments of my life, if I could ever get lucky enough to find someone who’d even _want_ to stand here with me to begin with. I wish I had trusted my gut feeling the first time I ever saw you smile or held your hand, because even then I knew you were the one. I just didn’t think I’d get to keep you this long,” he admits making Louis grin up at him. “I wish there were more words besides ‘I love you,’ to express how much that I do. I haven’t found any yet, but I promise to keep searching and trying my best to make it clear because you deserve all the love in the world. You will forever be the one in my heart, Louis, and for as long as we live, I’ll only have eyes for you. Even if they don’t always work the way they’re supposed to.”

 

Louis snorts at that, looking like a complete weirdo because he’s crying while wearing a full smile. Harry thinks he looks perfect that way.

 

“The future still worries me sometimes,” Harry continues. “Actually, it kind of worries me a lot. I have no idea what ten or twenty years from now will bring, but I do know you’re going to be right there with me. So, when I think about it that way… when I think about _us_ , I know that no matter what happens or where we end up, everything is going to be okay because _you_ are my future, Lou, and we’re in this life together.”

 

Niall hands them the rings that Louis let Harry help pick out a few days ago. It was his only contribution to this night and he’s never been more excited than he is right now as he slides it into place on Louis’ finger. Harry only has a few seconds to marvel at his own wedding band nestled right next to his engagement ring, which after three weeks of being able to see it, he’s decided actually _does_ match his eyes like everyone says.

 

As soon as they’re allowed to say ‘I do,’ Harry’s arms are filled with the weight of his new husband as they share their first married kiss, wet and tear-filled as it may be.

 

“We _are_ in this life together,” Louis sniffs over the cheers and applause of their guests when they break apart. “I love you no matter what,” he promises.

 

“I love you too. No matter what,” Harry echoes before leaning into his warm kiss for a second time. He can’t believe they did it.

 

*

 

 

“You know, you can see the lights from here just as easily as you can from way over there.”

 

Harry tears his gaze away from the view outside of the window overlooking their balcony to admire Louis instead where he’s been waiting very patiently for Harry to come join him in bed.

 

Harry has been mentally debating all night long over which of the two is more breathtaking.

 

“I apologize, Mr. Styles. I didn’t mean to space out on you,” Harry grins.

 

Louis’ eyes have lit up like stars each time someone has used his new name tonight, so Harry’s made sure to do so at every given opportunity. He honestly just enjoys the way it sounds. How well it fits him. _Both_ of them now.

 

Harry crosses the room and finally crawls into bed with him, sighing at how much warmer it is here across from their fireplace. “I’m sorry, love. Didn’t mean to keep you waiting.”

 

“Right,” Louis playfully rolls his eyes. “Sure you didn’t. We’ve been married for all of two hours and have somehow already entered the ‘ _Sorry, honey. Not tonight_ ,’ phase,” he teases as he comfortably nestles himself into Harry’s side.

 

Two whole hours. It feels like it’s only been about five seconds.

 

He really hopes this isn’t a taste of how fast life is going to start moving from now on. They just promised each other forever. He doesn’t want it to go by so quickly.

 

Harry hears his husband’s breath catch as his hands slide around his body to pull him in for a deep kiss, much more intimate than the ones they shared in front of their friends and family earlier. He lies flat and pulls Louis on top of him, enjoying the feeling of Louis’ weight pinning him down. From this angle, Harry _can_ see the lights just as easily as he could over by the window. The view is actually better from here with the giant skylight cut out of the ceiling of their cabin.

 

“I still can’t believe you really brought us here,” he smiles. It’s a better sendoff for his eyesight than he could’ve ever imagined. “I can’t believe that we’re really married and that I get to see all of this with you. It’s amazing, Louis. _You’re_ amazing.”

 

“This place is unreal,” Louis agrees once he stops blushing so much from Harry’s praise. “The idea just sort of came to me one day. It was after you read me some of your book. It got me thinking a lot about what the author said. Those rare occasions where blue meets green. I guess nobody has ever described the northern lights to him, but I happen to think they’re pretty miraculous and worthy of being on that list.”

 

“Me too.” Harry grins at the way Louis leans into his touch when he cups his cheek in one hand. “They’re incredible. And now thanks to you, I’ve gotten to witness them firsthand.” Blue and green are a wonderful combination. No one is more aware of that fact than Harry whenever he meets his husband’s gaze.

 

Harry has had the opportunity to see so many magnificent things in this life. The lights dancing over them are magical, sure, but Harry still thinks the color of Louis’ eyes will always be his favorite. He’ll remember both for the rest of his life whether his sight lasts for another ten years, or even if it vanishes tomorrow. He really hopes it doesn’t. It already feels like he’s getting to see all of this on borrowed time as it is. He grins to himself at his own greed because even after all of this, he wishes he could steal just a bit more of it.

 

Louis whispers that he loves him just before he connects their lips, but Harry doesn’t allow his eyes to flutter closed at the touch. He keeps them open to take in the sky and his husband, preserving every detail of this moment in his mind until it’s perfect and clear.


	5. Chapter 5

***

 

Three more days. That’s how long the fairytale lasted for them after their wedding, and for Louis, that time would’ve been just as magical whether Harry could see anything or not. At the end of the day, they were together and that was truly all that mattered. Those seventy-two hours were important to Harry though. His husband who hardly even slept the whole time they were in Finland from fear of missing out on something he could only witness for that moment.

 

Their families had left a couple of days before them, so the flight back home was pretty quiet. Louis was exhausted and began dozing off almost as soon as they were in the air. He let up the armrest separating him and his husband and snuggled himself into Harry’s side, taking comfort in the way Harry hooked an arm around him as he happily watched the clouds floating by in the sunshine outside of their window.

 

Exhaustion must have gotten the better of Harry after a while too because Louis had to shake him awake when they landed. Harry had blinked his eyes open, brow furrowed after a few minutes of rubbing at them to clear his vision, only to realize after several failed attempts that it wasn’t going to happen.

 

Louis closed his eyes, bracing himself for the fallout. He wasn’t sure what exactly to expect from such a harsh crash back down to earth, but it definitely wasn’t the way that Harry gently felt for his lips before kissing them and then pulled away with a quiet, “Will you help me get my carry-on from overhead?”

 

Harry’s calm tone and attitude took him by complete surprise. There was no meltdown. The explosion never came. Harry was perfectly content and at ease as Louis guided them off the plane and through the airport which only made Louis more nervous.

 

When they got home Harry immediately toed off his shoes and collapsed onto their sofa, sighing like he had been dreaming about it’s familiarity and comfort since they got on the plane. He looked over in Louis’ direction, probably seeing nothing at all when he grinned and held out his open arms. “Come cuddle with me a while?”

 

Louis dropped his bags at his feet without a second thought and practically climbed over their coffee table to be with him. Lying there on that sofa with Harry felt as easy as breathing just like it had when they were lying together in their honeymoon suite. Harry tucked Louis under his arm like always, reached up to cover them with the blanket they always keep folded over the back cushion, and pressed a soft kiss to the top of his head.

 

“I’m so sorry our trip had to end this way,” Louis whispered. He felt sorry for a lot of things that day, mostly how unfair life can be to those who least deserve it.

 

“Don’t be sorry, love,” his husband grinned against his hair. “I’m not.”

 

They were both asleep within minutes.

 

 

After that day, Louis stopped holding his breath all the time. He didn’t feel the need to live in constant fear of Harry having some kind of breakdown over his sight loss, mostly because this time, he seemed to be completely at peace with it. They had gone straight from fairytale to reality, and even with the changes, things still felt perfect.

 

After about a month of being back home, Harry started painting again. Louis had come home from work one afternoon, confused as to where his husband could be when he didn’t immediately find him in their flat and his cane was still resting near the door. He can admit that he had panicked a little, his stomach crawling with worry until he pushed open the door to the spare room at the end of the corridor to find his husband deep in concentration in front of his easel.

 

It was such a rare sight for the time that Louis had forgotten how happy painting made him look; that he used to hide out in here for hours at a time doing what he loves.

 

“Hey, babe,” Louis smiled as he entered the room. “I’m surprised to see you in here. What are you working on?”

 

Harry grinned over his shoulder at him with random streaks of paint all over his skin and clothes. “Not much at the moment I’m afraid. All of that paint I ordered finally came in so I’m mostly still trying to figure it out.”

 

‘Figuring it out’ was one way of putting it. Louis laughed as he swiped a finger through a glob of bright red paint that somehow ended up on Harry’s jaw. “Having fun experimenting, then?” He smeared the paint onto the canvas before him, making a face at the unexpected gritty texture of it scrubbing against the pad of his finger. He picked up one of the tubes of paint to further inspect it. Louis put it right back down once he realized the entire label was in braille.

 

“I am having quite a bit of fun actually,” Harry admitted after a beat. “I’ve just been messing around in here all day, but… I’ve missed it.” The look on his face said that he missed it too.

 

“Well, in that case, welcome back to the world of art. I’m glad you’re not letting anything hold you back. I’m so proud of you, babe.”

 

“Really? Wait- So, do you think I could sell this one now that I’m getting the hang of it? Display it at the studio maybe?” he asked with wide imploring eyes that wavered in their attempt to find his.

 

Louis raised an eyebrow at the white canvass littered with all of Harry’s trial and error brush strokes overlapping each other. There’s an honest to god rainbow painted in the center, and not the artsy, majestic looking kind either. This thing should never leave this flat, and Louis would’ve thought his husband was being serious if not for the smirk he was failing to conceal.

 

“Try to sell that thing and I’ll have to divorce you because we now share a last name and I simply cannot allow you to write it at the bottom of this canvas.”

 

“But it’s not just some canvas, babe. It’s a _piece_. My first _blind_ piece.”

 

“It’s a _mess_ and should burned,” he mumbled even though he knew Harry would catch it. He was counting on it really, beaming from ear to ear when Harry pulled him onto his lap for a kiss, his arms tight around his waist to hold him there.

 

“Thank you,” he whispered once their lips parted.

 

“For what? For saving our family name from ruin?” Louis teased.

 

“No. For being you and always knowing exactly what I need,” he smiled against Louis’ neck. “And also for knowing when I’m completely full of shit.”

 

“Ah, yes. My specialty.”

 

*

 

It took a little while for his confidence to grow back to what it was when he could still see, but eventually, he did produce a piece good enough to display at the studio. Louis had stumbled upon it one Saturday morning after he reached across their bed to find it empty on Harry’s side. He stood up, taking their blanket with him when he shuffled down the corridor.

 

He pushed the door open and took a few steps inside, his yawn ending in a frown when he realized his husband wasn’t even in there.

 

He had turned to leave and go look for him somewhere else, but before he could make it out the door, a flash of green near the window caught his eye. Louis walked towards it, hardly believing his eyes as the Northern Lights began taking shape on the canvas resting against his husband’s easel. Well, they weren’t exactly the Northern Lights yet considering the piece was only half finished and clearly still in the production phase, but what Harry had done so far was incredible.

 

Louis ran his fingers over the tops of the pine trees, finding them rough and gritty almost like real ones. They were a stark contrast to the sky. Smooth to the touch in shades of green wisped over midnight blue.

 

“Good morning,” came a voice from right behind Louis that make him jump from how close it was to his ear. “Whoa, are you alright?” Harry chuckled probably hearing the way Louis’ breath caught when he snuck up on him.

 

“Yeah, I’m good. You just scared me a little. I even didn’t hear you walk in. I only have the hearing of mortal men, remember?”

 

“Shut up,” Harry laughed as he blew over the mug of tea in his hands. “You’re the one who scared _me_. I thought you were still in bed.”

 

“I was, but then I missed you.”

 

“In your sleep?” Harry snorted.

 

“Yeah, probably,” Louis smiled, glad to have located his missing husband, but still completely taken by the painting before him. “Love, when did you start working on this piece?”

 

“I don’t know. A few days ago, I guess,” he shrugged. “I _think_ I’m almost finished with it, but. It’s kind of hard to tell.” Louis came home from work each day this week to find Harry waiting for him on the sofa or in the kitchen with the evidence of his day of hard work in his art room dried under his nails. Louis knew he’d been working on something new, he just didn’t expect it to be this.

 

“Haz, this is incredible,” he breathed as his fingers felt over the different textures of it.

 

“Incredible enough to sell this time?” he teased.

 

“Haz, _everyone_ is going to want this. There’s no way you won’t have a thousand offers as soon as it’s up.”

 

Louis watched as his husband’s cheeks turned a nice, humble shade of pink.

 

“Well, it’s good to know people would actually buy it, but it’s also too bad for them because this one isn’t for sale. It’s for you.”

 

Louis felt his breath catch for a second time. “Harry. Are you _serious_? I get to _keep_ this?” he beamed. “Wait. Are you sure?” He wanted that painting more than anything, but that would mean no one else would get a chance to see all of his husband’s hard work.

 

“Of course I’m sure. You said you wanted a painting _specifically_ for you, remember?” he laughed.

 

Louis frowned as he blinked at his husband’s words. He couldn’t believe he actually remembered that, especially since Louis’ words had sparked an argument afterwards. “I said that forever ago…I didn’t think you were even listening.”

 

“Of course I was listening, Lou. And, unfortunately, painting now takes even longer than it used to for me,” Harry said with a new flush to his cheeks. “I’m still not even done with this piece yet, but as soon as I am, it’s all yours to do whatever you want with it.”

 

Keeping it for fucking ever is what he’s going to do with it.

 

He took the mug of tea from Harry’s hands and sat it down next to his easel before curling into his open arms. “It’s beautiful. Thank you so much.”

 

Harry held him close that morning, grinning into his sleep mussed hair. “No, thank _you_ ,” he whispered before tilting Louis’ chin up. He ended up kissing the tip of Louis’ nose before he found his lips, but that was perfectly fine with Louis. He’s always liked their uncoordinated kisses the best anyway.

 

 

*

 

Five Years Later

 

Louis nearly knocks his painting of the Northern Lights off their bedroom wall when he attempts to answer Niall’s call while simultaneously stepping into his nice slacks for their meeting which is apparently starting early. And by early, Louis means on time.

 

“Jesus. I’m on the way right now. I’m almost there.”

 

“Liar,” Niall scoffs at him through the phone, not sounding at all convinced. “If you’re on your way, then which street are you on?”

 

Niall’s stumped him there. “Er- That really long one near the office with all those shops and buildings?”

 

“Oh, you mean the one that you fucking _live_ on?” he quips back.

 

Louis rolls his eyes at Niall and himself in the mirror, flat-out surrendering to time and any hope he may have had of fixing his hair. Hopefully their client (who is impatient as fuck by the way for doing this to him) can just overlook it.

 

“I’ll be there in like ten minutes. Calm down,” Louis orders as he shoves all of their blueprints into his bag.

 

“You said that ten minutes ago,” Niall annoyingly points out.

 

“Well, yeah. Except this time I actually mean it. So, love you! Bye!” Louis hangs up before Niall can whine, yell, or pretend cry about being the only one there with their boss at the moment. There’s no way humanly possible that Louis can be there in ten minutes, but he’s already made it to work on time _three_ days this week, so really, he’s due for a late start. It’s the natural order of life.

 

He sprints through the flat, but doesn’t head to the door like he knows he probably should. He hangs a right into the kitchen instead, forcing himself to breathe and slow down when Harry welcomes him with a smile and hands him his tea in a giant to-go cup.

 

“Niall just texted me and asked had you left yet. I told him you left ten minutes ago.”

 

Louis smiles after he takes a quick sip of his tea which of course tastes even better than when Louis makes it himself. God, he loves his husband so much. The two of them are such a perfect team. Even their blatant lies to their best friend match up. That’s got to mean something.

 

“You, my love, are my _favorite_ person,” Louis sighs.

 

“Thanks, babe. Though, that makes sense since you also happen to be mine,” his husband grins.

 

Louis lifts up on his toes to meet Harry halfway for a kiss. It needs be a quick one considering Louis really doesn’t have the time for anything else but that doesn’t stop him from allowing Harry’s large, paint-streaked hands to pull him in even closer. Louis frowns when his pocket starts vibrating in rapid succession. He reluctantly pulls back even though it’s the last thing he wants to do right now.

 

“Ugh. I’d love to stay a bit longer, but unfortunately I really do have to go. Apparently Niall’s entire life depends on it.”

 

Harry’s brow furrows in mild concern. “Really? Why? Is this meeting that serious?”

 

“No, but I might seriously have to kill him if he fucking calls me again.”

 

Harry laughs and gives him a playful smack on the bum in reprimand. “Be nice to him. We might need Ni one day.”

 

“Yeah, sure we will,” Louis rolls his eyes even though Harry can’t see it. He doesn’t care. He’s sure Harry can probably smell his sarcasm. “Okay, I really have to go now, but I love you,” he manages to say through a series of quick thank you kisses for his tea. “Have a good day and I’ll see you after work,” he promises.

 

“Yeah. O-Okay. Bye. Love you too. Have a good day,” Harry says just as Louis rushes out.

 

Louis hails a cab as soon as he’s on the street. He gets inside, letting his eyes slide shut when he answers the insistent call coming through on his phone.

 

“Niall Horan, I will murder you with my bare hands, I _swear_ it,” he says once he quickly rattles off the address to his job.

 

 

*

 

Their meeting ends up going as smooth as ever of course. Louis showed up a couple minutes late, yeah, but their client was fashionably late too, so really, Louis was right on time. By his own standards. His boss wasn’t mad at him for his tardiness, but he wasn’t exactly impressed either so when the time came for someone to go on site to listen to all of the grievances of one of their other, more difficult clients, Louis was top pick.

 

Figures.

 

He steps back into his office nearly two hours later with a slight headache and his stomach grumbling because he meant to stop for lunch on his way back but was so caught up with being annoyed with their whiny client that he forgot. Not like Niall who is happily chomping down on an entire fucking feast laid out on his desk like the Last Supper for one.

 

“What the hell is all of this?”

 

“My lunch. What’s it look like?” he answers between chews.

 

“You ordered an entire steak dinner for _lunch?”_ Louis grimaces, watching his friend lick the tips of his fingers clean after tearing off a large piece of meat.

 

It’s customary to see Niall shoving a greasy burger or a slice or two of pizza down his throat around this time of day sure, but a whole fucking rib-eye?

 

“Nope. I didn’t have to order anything,” he says with a smirk. “This was a _gift._ ”

 

“Jesus. Who’d you have to screw to get a gift like that?” he mutters as he takes a seat behind his own desk. He asks mostly as a joke even though part of him really wants to fucking know the identity of this overly generous benefactor.  

 

“Oh, it was no one special,” Niall chirps from his side of the office, now shoving sautéed vegetables and potatoes into his mouth as well. “…Just Harry.”

 

Louis assumes his empty stomach and low energy are the reasons for why he has yet to hurdle over his and Niall’s desk to strangle him for a joke like that. Niall doesn’t seem concerned for his well-being in the slightest, cackling around the bite he just took. Louis would be lying if he said he didn’t just imagine Niall choking on it a little bit. Okay, _a lot_.

 

“Fuck off. That wasn’t even funny,” Louis says, glad to feel his initial flame of jealousy simmering down to the regular flame of fond annoyance he usually feels towards his best friend.

 

“ _Yes_ , it was! God, you literally set yourself up for that one! That was the best thing I’ve seen all week. Maybe even all _year_.”

 

Louis rolls his eyes as he settles back down at his desk. “Don’t talk to me anymore. I hate you,” he grumbles, deciding to avoid killing Niall by simply ignoring him for the rest of the foreseeable future. Or, at least for the next half-hour.

 

“Aw, Lou, don’t be like that,” Niall smiles. “We _have_ to talk. That was sort of the deal when Haz bought me all of this.”

 

Louis blinks over at his friend again feeling that annoyance change to confusion and then just flat-out disappointment. Harry was actually here?

 

“He didn’t tell me…” Louis subconsciously palms his phone in his pocket, feeling a small pang of hurt because Harry didn’t even send him a text.

 

Now it’s Niall who rolls his eyes. “Louis, come on. You should know it wasn’t anything like that. He _was_ here a little while ago, but he only stopped by for a bit to talk to me about something. Calm down.”

 

Niall’s words don’t exactly offer him comfort.

 

“About what?” About something he didn’t feel comfortable talking to Louis about? He feels his chest tightening around his heart. What could possibly be so bad that it has Harry sneaking around his job while he’s gone just to seek advice? He thought they were doing great.

 

Louis touches the fresh lovebites tingling just below his collarbone from this morning, the whole reason he was even late today because the two of them couldn’t keep their hands to themselves long enough for Louis to get up and get dressed. It was just this morning that Louis smiled at his husband thinking they make the perfect pair, but maybe he was wrong since Harry can’t even talk to him about what’s on his mind without bribing their best friend.

 

“Stop it. I can see you having a panic attack from way over here. He came to talk about _you_ , you lunatic. And _no_ , it wasn’t anything bad before you jump to even more crazy conclusions,” Niall mutters.

 

“Oh.” That makes Louis feel _slightly_ better, though truthfully he probably wouldn’t have jumped to any conclusions at all had Niall not just joked about Harry fucking him about five minutes ago. “Well, in that case, what did he say? What did he want?”

 

Louis thinks back over the last few weeks trying to think of anything he may have said or done that would make Harry afraid to come to him. Harry has seemed so incredibly happy as of late. None of this makes any sense.

 

“I figured there was something on his mind when he showed up because he seemed nervous as hell and wanted to make sure I was alone before he came. He took forever to get around to what he was actually here for, but then he finally admitted to wanting to know whether you’ve ever talked to me about the two of you starting a family. Apparently you never say much about it around him.” 

 

Niall’s words bounce around and echo in his mind for a couple of minutes. At first, all Louis can do is stare at his best friend in shock. “H- Harry wants kids?” he breathes after his heart and lungs start working again.

 

“I think so,” Niall nods. “He wants them, but only if you want them too. I think he’s terrified to bring it up in case you don’t feel the same way. He doesn’t want to upset you.”

 

The one time they ever discussed kids was the night they had their first fight all those years ago. The aftermath that ensued over the two of them _potentially_ getting engaged was enough to scare Louis away from the topic of children for good unless Harry brought it up first. Clearly that was the wrong approach to take since it’s now over five years later and Harry isn’t sure if Louis would even _consider_ raising kids with him because he’s scared to bring it up too.

 

Louis blinks over at his best friend again, still slightly in shock wondering how he managed to fuck up this badly.

 

 

 

He heads home to go talk to Harry as soon as he gets off work. Louis finds him in his art room of course. He’s been working hard on a commissioned piece for the last few weeks so Louis doesn’t even bother looking for him anywhere else.

 

Harry’s head tilts in the direction of the door when he hears Louis push it open. He puts down the brush he was just using and quickly wipes his hands on the towel he keeps nearby.

 

“You’re home early,” he says. The grin on his face growing as Louis’ footsteps become closer and closer. His hands wrap around Louis’ waist to eagerly pull him in. Louis feels his heart start to race when Harry takes a moment for himself to locate his mouth before pressing a well-aimed kiss to it. “Missed you,” Harry smiles. “How was work?”

 

Louis curls into Harry’s embrace, listening to his heartbeat quicken as well just from getting to hold him. Louis rests his head against his shoulder next, breathing in his scent where his nose lightly tickles Harry’s neck. His husband giggles like always and squirms a bit from the feeling and all Louis can think is how very much he’s in love with him. He wants to give Harry the world and that includes children if that’s what he wants.

 

Louis should’ve seen the little signs all along. He should’ve noticed that something was missing.

 

“I would be so incredibly honored to start a family with you, Haz,” he whispers.

 

It’s not exactly an answer to Harry’s work question, but having kids with Harry is all he could think about after talking to Niall today anyway, so in Louis’ mind it counts.

 

He feels Harry stiffen a bit where he’s still holding him close, his grip tightening a bit from such a direct dive into this conversation. He relaxes a bit once Louis starts rubbing circles into his back.

 

“Y-You would?” he asks, his voice just as soft as Louis’ just was.

 

His face has genuine surprise and doubt written all over it. Louis closes his eyes in silent reprimand of himself. How did he let them get this far without Harry knowing exactly how much he wants everything with him, _including_ babies?

 

Louis stands up straight to better see him, his husband’s green eyes searching like always as he does his best to judge where Louis’ are. Louis leans in to connect their lips, making Harry’s breath catch from the unexpected touch.

 

“I would love to raise kids with you, babe. I think about it all the time.”

 

“You do?” He still sounds shocked, like this is the complete opposite direction he expected this thing to go.

 

“Yeah, love,” Louis says through a laugh. “I really, really do.” He didn’t expect to have to convince Harry that he really would like to be a father someday.

 

“ _Good._ ” Harry finally cracks a smile; a small one, but it’s there. “I want kids with you too, but, Lou…I’m not sure how realistic that is for us. I mean, being a parent is hard enough as it is and then add in me with the way I am and my…”

 

“And your nothing,” Louis says before he even finishes his sentence, immediately shutting down that train of thought. “Harry, you are a wonderful man. You’re amazing at literally anything you set your mind to. Being a great father won’t be any different, love. I promise.”

 

Harry releases a shaky breath with a grin attached to the end of it like he hadn’t expected for Louis to say those things.

 

“Thanks,” he whispers. “And, you’d be the best dad in the world, babe. I have no doubt. And, I know it’s not unheard of to be a blind parent. People do it every day, but I just- I don’t know,” he sighs. “I’m honestly terrified just thinking about it.”

 

“Yeah, me too,” Louis smirks. “Any kid raised by us is bound to be a little menace.”

 

Harry laughs, making his dimples appear and Louis’ heart melt all over the place like it usually does whenever his husband smiles that big and looks that happy.

 

“Oh, _God_ , You’re right,” he agrees. “I didn’t even think about that.”

 

“Yep. And it’ll only get worse because he’ll have _Niall_ as an uncle. That’s just plain scary.”

 

Another bark of laughter manages to escape his husband. He lightly smacks Louis on the thigh for his joke. “I told you to be nice to Ni. He was really helpful today. I needed him,” he says in their friend’s defense.

 

Louis scoffs.

 

“Yeah, he was helpful alright. I asked him where he got all that food and he told me it was a post-sex gift from you.”

 

Harry’s face is horrified until he starts laughing so hard that he turns pink. “Okay, there is no way in hell that would ever happen. You didn’t _actually_ believe him, right?”

 

“Of, course not,” Louis says proudly. “And I had fully planned to choke him out, but then I realized it was probably just payback for that time I accidentally made him think I wanted to have a threesome.”

 

“When did _that_ happen?”

 

Louis smiles and smacks a kiss to his jaw. “Back in the day when I was determined to marry your stubborn arse, so I had to bribe Ni with chocolate, his one true weakness,” he says, poking him in one of his dimples.

 

“He’s so lucky to have us.”

 

“Yeah, he is,” Louis agrees. “As long we’re both completely useless when it comes to discussing major life milestones he’ll never go hungry.”

 

Louis’ face lights up when he receives an unexpected kiss of his own, right on the lips with his smile lined up with Harry’s. “I’m so glad you’re going to consider doing this with me,” he whispers. “I’ve wanted to ask you about it for months, I just didn’t know how. And I know it’s going to be hard, but I’m glad you’re willing to even try with me.”

 

“We’re not considering anything, love. We’re doing it,” Louis promises. “As soon as possible.”

 

*

 

Louis sort of wants to go back to the day he promised Harry they’d start a family right away and kick himself because getting adoption agencies to seriously consider them is turning out to be more difficult than he ever imagined.

 

Harry had tried to tell him that this would be nearly impossible, but Louis had assumed he was just overreacting as per usual when it comes to him and his RP. As it turns out, he wasn’t.

 

The two of them look great on paper as prospective parents, that is until Harry has to disclose that he is in fact disabled. Louis hates that fucking word. It’s like a poison, infecting every dream they have of the future. As soon as they check the box on an application and explain that his disability has only left him without his sight, their odds for being chosen dwindle almost immediately.

 

It’s disheartening, but there are some agencies that don’t shut them down before they’ve even been given a chance. He and Harry still aren’t top choice of course. Sighted, straight couples are still the preference just like everywhere else they’ve tried, but at least here they feel like they’re still in the running.

 

They have to take extra steps in order to be seriously considered, like writing twice as many essays as other couples who apply and subjecting their loved ones to interview after interview to make sure Harry would be a fit parent. Louis hates that word too. Being a fit parent is completely objective. There isn’t just one type of parent and there isn’t just one way to do it. They do what they’re asked anyway and their friends and family willingly sacrifice their time and energy over and over again to paint Harry as the most capable and deserving of applicants.

 

Apparently it’s still not enough though. Just when Louis thought they were real contenders for being able to take home a baby one day, the agency that has given them the most hope over the last few months asks Harry to take parenting classes with other soon-to-be first-time parents. Harry agrees without any hesitation. Louis has to remind himself to breathe, he’s so livid. Nothing they do for these people is ever good enough.

 

“It’s _bullshit_ ,” Louis growls after he flops down on their sofa when they get home. “No one else is forced to go to fucking classes before raising a child.”

 

Harry sits down beside him and links their fingers together. He sighs, but doesn’t look angry like Louis is. He mostly just looks tired from being at the agency for the past two hours.

 

“Babe,” he sighs. “I don’t mind taking a few classes if it gets us closer to what we want. They’re just making sure that they place children in homes where they’ll be safe and properly taken care of. I can’t really blame them for that.” _Louis_ can certainly blame them. _He_ minds other people weighing in on what his husband is or isn’t capable of. Harry is the most capable person that he knows.

 

“Louis, I’m okay with it. I promise,” Harry assures him. “And plus, it’s not like I’ve ever taken care of an infant before. These classes might not be such a bad idea.” Leave it to Harry to find the silver lining in a bunch of people questioning his ability to be a dad. “I’ll start on Monday; hit the ground running,” he decides.

 

“Alright, then. Monday,” Louis agrees. “I’ll let my boss know I’ll need some time.”

 

Harry warmly grins down at him. “Thanks a lot, love. I appreciate it, but you don’t have to do that. You have an entire army of little siblings that you’ve helped take care of. They want to make sure _I_ can be a fit parent…they have all the confidence in the world in you.”

 

Louis would rather the two of them have no baby at all than to send Harry off to these bullshit classes twice a week all by himself.

 

“Yeah, yeah, whatever. Save it, Styles. I’m coming with. Get over it.”

 

Harry fondly shakes his head at him and his persistence. “Alright, _Styles_ , since you insist,” he laughs, happily relenting to his husband. “I’d be fine on my own and you’re gonna be bored to tears, but okay. You win.”

 

Damn right he does and Louis accepts his victory kiss with great pleasure.

 

*

 

Harry attends classes for a whole month and Louis makes sure he’s by his side for every single one of them. Louis had decided to tag along mostly as a support system for his husband, but fifteen minutes into their first lesson lets Louis know that the skills he and Harry assumed he’d mastered after helping his mother with six children are a little rusty after almost a decade of not being used.

 

Apparently, the way he’s holding their doll for feeding is incorrect and so is the way Louis burps it. He has changed countless diapers in his lifetime but according to their instructor, he’s been doing that wrong as well because it’s fastened too tightly for a real newborn’s sensitive skin. Who fucking knew?

 

He’s not as bad as some of the other people in the room though, including the heavy-handed man across them who unintentionally tosses his doll around like a sack of potatoes while dressing it. Louis prays the poor guy gets his shit together before his actual baby arrives. His very pregnant wife is sweet and patient with him though, so Louis’ sure they’ll be just fine when the time comes.

 

Louis peeks over at Harry more often than he should, watching as he concentrates twice as hard as everyone else in the room to get things right.

 

It’s not a surprise to Louis when out of all the soon-to-be father’s in the class (including himself), Harry is the gentlest, even with just a doll. It takes him a little longer to master changing outfits, changing diapers, and bathing, but once he gets the hang of it, he’s easily the best and the fastest. He ends up being amazing at most of the skills they’re taught, really. Louis is insanely proud of his husband every day but he’s never felt his heart so full as on their last class when their instructor hands them a letter of recommendation for their case worker describing Harry as one of the most capable and worthy future parents she’s ever had the pleasure of working with.

 

 

It’s been months since then. Four to be exact, and he and Harry are finally _officially_ on the waiting list to adopt a child along with everybody else. Just getting here has been one of the longest journeys that they’ve ever embarked on and now that they’re at the end of it, Louis’ disappointed to find that there’s just more waiting.

 

They came really close to being chosen a few times, but in the end, the birth parents of the child decided to go with another couple. A non-disabled, _seeing_ couple, which they never flat-out say, but it’s obvious that’s the reason. Nothing has ever felt as gut wrenching as thinking they’re about to have everything, only for them to be left empty-handed, with a ‘ _maybe next time’_.

 

Louis forces himself to be happy for the other couples, because raising kids is obviously something they want, but, this is his and Harry’s dream too. Louis can only pretend that he’s okay for so long, and the thought of Harry losing faith in what they want makes Louis feel even worse than the rejection.

 

A new letter from the agency comes the day of Harry’s birthday. Louis’ first instinct is to throw it away. His second instinct is to go ahead and rip it open so he can read this set of birth parents’ rejection up-front, but he thinks better of it when he thinks about Harry and how much he’s been looking forward to having dinner with everyone they love.

 

This letter is probably going to suck no matter when they read what’s written in it, but Louis _really_ doesn’t want to do it now. Not tonight. He leaves the unopened envelope on the kitchen table along with the rest of their mail, more confident than ever in his decision to not mention it to his husband when he happily announces from his art room that he’s going to go get dressed for his party.

 

It’s his birthday; one of the happiest of occasions of the year for them. The letter can wait.

 

 

Louis wanders into the kitchen in search of a snack once he’s finished getting dressed an hour later. He grabs a cookie and a handful of grapes out of the fridge and sits down at the table to wait out his husband who still hasn’t finished. It’s not even because he’s blind either. Harry has _always_ taken forever to choose a bloody outfit even when he didn’t have to feel over everything in his closet. His lack of sight has nothing to with it; it’s just pure indecisiveness at its best.

 

He pulls out his phone after he tosses a few grapes into mouth. He has several messages from Niall asking if they’ve left yet, all of which Louis pointedly ignores because he doesn’t like Niall’s tone. His mother and mother-in-law have also checked in to ask where they are as well as to let Louis know that everyone is there and waiting for the birthday boy. Louis smiles as he types their replies letting them know they’ll be on the way soon and then hits send.

 

Louis has eaten all of his grapes, checked all of his social media accounts, and told Niall to stop whining twice when Louis starts getting antsy as well. “Babe? You still alive back there?” he calls out.

 

“ _No_ ,” is all he gets in return, making Louis laugh because Harry started getting ready a full half an hour before him and is probably still messing with his hair to make sure it feels just right.

 

This is obviously going to take a while longer so Louis tries new ways to entertain himself like knocking over the saltshaker and ripping up a perfectly good napkin simply because he’s bored out of his mind. He tips over the peppershaker next, accidentally knocking a bunch of flakes onto the soon-to-be newest member of their adoption rejection pile.

 

Louis wipes it clean, staring at the white envelope is his hand with the strange and sudden urge to open it regardless of what he decided earlier. He thinks about it; about breaking the seal really quick while Harry’s not even in the room just to see if it really is a rejection.

 

He knows it is. That’s literally all the agency ever sends them these days. Louis doesn’t think this letter will be any different from the others, but even so, there’s a small chance that it could be.

 

He checks over his shoulder to make sure Harry isn’t sneaking up on him like he sometimes manages to do before opening the letter as quietly as possible. Louis is too impatient to wait until tomorrow but that doesn’t mean Harry’s special day has to be ruined too by whatever’s inside.

 

The first thing Louis notices is that this letter is much longer than the ones they’ve received in the past. Usually it’s just a paragraph or two explaining why the birth parents decided to choose another couple, but their letter today is nearly three pages long.

 

The second thing Louis notices is the way his lungs have stopped taking in any air as he reads over the words ‘thank you’ and ‘congratulations’ about a hundred times because he doesn’t believe they’re actually printed on the paper like his eyes are leading him to believe.

 

He jumps when Harry’s hand comes down on his shoulder a few minutes later. He didn’t even hear his husband walk in.

 

“Louis? Babe, what’s wrong? What happened?” he asks, worry and concern all over his face. “Is-Is everybody okay?”

 

Louis hadn’t even realized he was crying. Louis wipes at his eyes and wills himself to stop sniffling like an idiot every five seconds so his husband doesn’t look so scared to know what’s going on.

 

“It- It’s nothing. Everything is fine. Every _one_ is fine, I’m just… _happy_ ,” Louis decides. Harry physically relaxes once he hears that, but is still on edge about what has Louis this upset. “We got another letter today from the agency...” Harry frowns at this very new information. “I know. I didn’t tell you. I didn’t want some stupid rejection letter ruining your birthday and I told myself that I wasn’t going to open it for the same reason, but, _Haz_ …”

 

Harry nods with a solemn expression at his explanation for hiding the letter from him. “It’s okay, love. I probably would’ve opened it too. I get it.” He tries to pull Louis into a hug that’s more consoling than celebratory like it usually is when their hopes get shattered into a million pieces.

 

“No, Haz, you don’t understand. They didn’t say no,” Louis hurries to say. “The birth mother this time, she said _yes_. She _picked_ us! That’s why I was crying because I thought for sure this letter would be just like all the others, except, it wasn’t.” Louis’ so glad it wasn’t.

 

“She said yes? And- And the agency approved it? They said yes, too? _Everybody_?” Harry checks.

 

“That’s right. Everybody,” Louis confirms.

 

He gets pulled in by his husband for a second time and their embrace is full of happiness and relief like it should’ve been the first time. Louis melts into him, his eyes filling up again when he hears Harry’s breaths turn shaky against him. He keeps trying to say something, but can’t seem to get it out.

 

“What is it, love? What’s wrong?” Louis asks, hoping it’s just the very intense emotions of the evening getting to him and nothing else. 

 

“Fuck, it’s nothing. It’s nothing bad I promise, I just... would you please read it to me, so I can hear it?” comes a soft voice that Louis could never refuse.

 

Louis can’t believe he hasn’t done that already. As soon as he realized their letter was a good one all he wanted to do was share the news with his husband.

 

“Yeah, babe, of course. I’d love to.”

 

 

They end up being over half an hour late to Harry’s dinner after he demands to hear the contents of their letter so many times that Louis now has it memorized. They walk in hand in hand and all the cheers of happy birthday quickly transform into a roaring chorus of congratulations when Harry announces that they’re going to be dads to a baby girl named Hailey. No one, not even Niall chastises them for their tardiness once they see how incredibly happy they are.

 

*

 

Things start moving fast soon after that. They have three weeks to prepare for Hailey’s arrival which sounds like loads of time, but doesn’t feel like it at all.

 

Their friends and family throw them a massive baby shower to help out with all the things they’ll need for their three-month old daughter when she gets to come home with them and the two of them work relentlessly, turning the extra spare room into an organized nursery, so covered in braille that Louis’ half certain that their daughter will learn to read that before regular print.

 

They get to meet her one Sunday afternoon. Harry holds her first, which Louis is actually glad about because he’s been so eager and excited to do so for the past three weeks since they found out she was theirs.

 

He can’t see her but he smiles down at her like he can make out every detail of her face. Louis helps paint a picture for him, describing her big brown eyes and chestnut colored hair that turns up at the ends just like Harry’s, just waiting to be little curls if only he’d stop cutting them. He feels over her little fingers, smiling to himself when the tip of his pinky finger ends up being bigger than the tip of her nose. He’s enchanted by her; that much is obvious, and Louis has never been so in awe, watching his husband fall in love with her in under fifteen seconds.

 

Louis holds her next with a jittery, anxious stomach because she seems so fragile that he’s afraid he may break her. He has held every one of his siblings a billion times and it has never once resulted in a broken baby, but Hailey’s just so little and so delicate. This is his _daughter,_ and somehow it just feels different. He loves her so much already. The only other person he’s ever fallen for this hard this fast is the beautiful man standing beside him with tear-filled eyes and a watery smile that won’t go away.

 

 

 

***

 

Six Years Later

 

The first time Harry ever sat down in this waiting room all those years ago was the first time he met his daughter. It feels like it was just yesterday that she was small enough to fit in the crook of his arm. Now, she’s so big at six years old that her feet are currently dangling over Harry’s where she’s sitting in his lap patiently waiting just like him and Louis.

 

Harry twists his fingers through the ends of her long hair, adjusting and straightening the glittery bow that she and Louis picked out this morning that holds it all away from her face. She shifts in his lap when Louis hands her something. Based on the joyous way that she thanks him, Harry knows it was his phone.

 

She goes straight to some app that’s notorious in their household because she and Louis both love to annoy each other with it.

 

“I still have the best score!” she announces with pride.

 

“Yeah, love. I’m _painfully_ aware. Don’t rub it in,” Louis mutters next to them. Hailey giggles at him and the pouty expression her father is most definitely wearing at the moment, causing Harry to smile too because he remembers that look.

 

He has explained to them both nearly a thousand times that they’re both winners and it’s just a game, but somehow that fact still hasn’t quite sunken in. Harry has never _seen_ either one of them playing this game so he’s unsure of the actual level of difficulty, but he’s heard them whining and arguing over it on several occasions due to Hailey’s bragging and Louis’ inability to cope with their six-year-old beating his arse. Truly, they both deserve each other. They’re equally ridiculous.

 

“I tried beating you earlier, but I give up,” Louis says a beat later. “You’re much better than I am anyway. I’ve come to accept it,” he shrugs; a big admission for someone who loves to win as much as he does. Harry’s proud of him.

 

“That’s not true. I think you’re very good, Daddy,” Hailey assures him. “You should practice more. I can teach you,” she kindly offers.

 

Harry holds his daughter still to press a couple of kisses to her temple. She’s so sweet that she’s even willing to try and help Louis improve on something that’s obviously a lost cause simply because he is her father and games are a special thing between the two of them, just like art and painting are special things between her and Harry. She has two dads so really she had no choice but to be a complete daddy’s girl from the moment they brought her home. They each share a half of her heart, but even so, everybody including Louis suspects that Harry’s piece may be just a tiny bit bigger.

 

Louis is the energetic one who helps get her get into trouble here and there because he’s basically a child himself with how much mischief he enjoys getting into. He’s the one that runs around with her at the park and teaches her things like sports and how to ride a bike. You can always tell when they’re together just from the sheer volume inside of their flat, because neither of them has ever really mastered using an inside voice regardless of where they are.

 

They are quite the pair. Two peas in a pod, and yet their daughter is so much different with Harry.

 

She’s calmer with Harry because everything that they happen to love to do together is so much quieter. She does her homework by herself most nights with Louis’ help of course if she needs it, but afterwards she always curls up with Harry so he can read to her from one of his special books because she’s always been just as fascinated by him reading braille as Louis is.

 

Harry is usually the one she prefers to visit her school because for some strange reason she actually likes that Harry is so different. Harry had been scared out of his mind when she chose him instead of Louis to come read to her class for parent day. She made him show off his fairytale books all printed in braille and he showed her classmates the alphabet like he taught her when she was old enough, making him the coolest dad ever. Hailey also chose him for career day where Harry completely freaked out again for no reason because her class loved watching him paint and explain how he has to see with his other senses. Harry let them try it themselves with their eyes closed. The class was a giant mess by the end of it, but Hailey had fun and she was proud of him so that’s really all that mattered.

 

One of Harry’s biggest fears when he realized he wanted kids was embarrassing them somehow because of his RP, but his child celebrates his differences and loves him regardless of all the things he can’t do. She doesn’t mind that she has two dads and that one of them can’t see. To her, their family is perfect. Harry just hopes the newest member of their family whom they’re all about to meet will feel the same way when he’s her age.

 

He feels Louis knock their knees together once their daughter completely zones out of their game conversation to busy herself playing it instead. “Do you remember it taking this long the first time we came here? I don’t think it took them this long to bring Hails out,” he says mostly to himself, his nerves causing him to grow even more impatient than he’s been all week.

 

Harry had felt like he’d been waiting forever when they finally got to meet Hailey because the process to get them even that far had taken nearly two years.

 

Thankfully, adopting Riley has taken half the time. The agency knows and trusts him and Louis now that they’ve proven themselves capable by managing to keep their daughter alive for this long. They joke about it now, but they had to overcome quite a few challenges while Hailey was small. Especially when she started crawling and walking and no longer stayed where he or Louis placed her down, but they figured it out. They always do.

 

Riley’s birth mother was very ill. She died a couple of months ago leaving him with no one, so she never really got much say in who would get to be his new parents after she was gone. However, the agency said she favored him and Louis while she was still alive and that she was comforted by the fact that they did such a great job the first time around. Adopting a second child hasn’t been nearly as difficult as their first. They actually got to enjoy the experience and the process, and it was even better because this time, Hailey got to be involved too.

 

“I’m sure they’ll bring him in any minute,” Harry assures his husband, reaching out until he finds Louis’ hand to lightly squeeze it. “He’s already ours. It’s not like they can change their minds,” he teases.

 

“Yeah, you’re probably right,” Louis sighs. Harry _is_ right, but doesn’t point it out. “Maybe Riley saw us through the window and changed _his_ mind. Maybe he packed up all of his stuff and escaped out the back door after paying off the staff for their silence.”

 

“He’s six months old,” Harry snorts. “His head alone makes up like half of his body weight.”

 

He can tell by the lightness in Louis’ voice that he’s smiling big. “I know that, but I’m just saying that he’s _officially_ a Styles now. Anything is possible, even that,” he jokes.

 

Harry had been feeling a little restless waiting this long too, but now that Louis has started entertaining him with complete and utter nonsense, he feels much less on edge.

 

Louis has always been the best at that; at calming him down and knowing exactly what Harry needs before he even realizes it himself. Louis can read him better than anybody, and it’s times like these that Harry reminds himself how lucky he is to have him. To have this life which has proven to be just as extraordinary as Louis promised him it would be when he told Harry that they’d be together forever.

 

“You’re so ridiculous,” Harry chuckles.

 

The door to the waiting room opens just as Harry is able to keep a straight face and everybody falls silent.

 

Harry turns towards the sound of a pair of heels clicking, his heartbeat increasing just knowing their son is in the room.

 

“Sorry for the wait,” their case worker apologizes through a chuckle. “He was too busy being a ball of energy to stay still long enough to be dressed by the caretaker. I think he’s just as excited as his new family.”

 

As much as Harry wishes that he could, he can’t physically see Riley like Louis and Hailey can, but he can definitely hear him happily babbling along as he’s brought even closer to them.

 

Hailey is still sitting in his lap, so their case worker’s steps come to a halt in front of Louis. He can tell the exact moment that their son is placed in Louis’ arms because he releases a shaky breath that only makes Harry more anxious to get to meet him. “He’s _amazing_ , Haz,” Louis whispers.

 

Harry can’t wait to hold him. Right now, he imagines Riley to look like any other baby he’s seen in the past, but he knows there are probably little things about him that stand out. Little things that Harry will never see, but he’s so excited to be told all about them.

 

“His eyes are like yours, Daddy,” Hailey quietly relays to him.

 

Harry’s stomach lurches upon hearing her comment, sending him into a small internal panic thinking there must be something wrong for her to point something like that out. Louis must notice him worrying his bottom lip because he pauses the little conversation he was just having with Riley to effortlessly ease Harry’s worries the way he always does.

 

“Yeah, love, you’re right. They’re green just like daddy’s. They’re beautiful, aren’t they?”

 

Harry releases the breath he was holding, shaking his head and smiling to himself because _of course_ she meant that Riley’s eyes are green. God, he’s so happy and thrilled to be meeting his son that he’s losing his mind.

 

Louis asks Hailey to come sit with him for a while and that’s when Harry gets his chance to hold him. Harry talks to him whispering how excited he is to get to be his dad, but he also says hello in his own way, smoothing his thumb over his son’s chubby cheeks and the thin wisps of hair on his head that are apparently so light that he could pass for bald in the dark, but that’s just his husband’s amused opinion.

 

Enjoying the feeling of him as an actual weight in his arms like he’s been dreaming of doing for weeks is even better than he could’ve imagined. Harry has to hold onto him tightly, realizing that his son is in fact a ball of energy like their case worker warned, but that’s perfect because soon enough Hailey and Louis will need an extra little menace running around causing mayhem with them.

 

Harry smiles to himself feeling his eyes water a bit because he can’t believe they’re here.

 

He honestly never thought he’d get to have any of this; to _be_ any of this. He’s so many things to so many people and Harry loves them all so much. He used to be so afraid of the future, and to this day he has no reason why because their lives just keep getting better.

 

He doesn’t know where they’ll end up a few more years down the road, but for once, he’s not fearful of the journey they’ll have to take to get there. For the first time ever, he’s actually looking forward to it.  

 

 

 

 

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**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This last chapter is bittersweet given the news shared about Louis' family today. Wishing him and his family much love <3

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much to FallingLikeThis (Zayniam) for being the best person in the world and putting up with my mountain of random typos every time I send you something I've written <3 You're amazing!
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> Also, thanks to anyone reading this! Hope you like it :)
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> all-these-larrythings.tumblr.com


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